"Andre Norton - Crosstime 2 - Crossroads of Time" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

"Joey knows his stuff," he observed lazily. "Stan will report if anyone
showed undue interest."
"I believe you said your father was a policeman. Where? In Ohio?"
Kittson paid no attention to his colleague's comment.
"In Columbus, yes. But I said my foster father," corrected Blake. He was
on guard, aware that every word he spoke was being noted, weighed by all
of the three fronting him.
"And your real parents?"
Blake told his story in as few words as possible. Hoyt might have dozed
off during that recital, his eyes were closed. Saxton gave it the courteous
attention a personnel man would grant that of a job applicant. And
Kittson continued to study him with those hard, amber eyes.
"That's it," he ended.
Hoyt arose in one lithe and strangely graceful movement. His eyes, now
fully opened, Blake noticed, were green, as vivid in color and as compelling
when he turned them on one, as were Kittson's.

"I take it Walker is staying?" he asked of the room at large.
Instinctively Blake glanced at Kittson; the final decision lay with the
agent he was sure. And on the desk he now noticed something new. In the
middle of the green blotter was a small ball of crystal. Some movement of
the agent's must have disturbed it for it began to roll toward Blake. It had
almost reached the edge of the desk when he put out his hand and caught
it.
CHAPTER TWO
Its weight suggested that it was a natural crystal. But when he reached
out to replace it on the desk there was a change in it. He had caught a
clear ball, what he now held was a globe in which swirled a blue-green
twist of vapour. As he continued to hold it that vapour grew more dense,
thickened, until the color was solid.
The change was uncanny. Blake set it down as if the ball seared his
flesh. Now the blue-green was fading once more. But Saxton was on his
feet, crowding forward against Hoyt to watch the transformation.
Kittson's hand covered the sphere. The blue-green was gone. But had there
been the beginning of another change? The agent dropped the globe into a
drawer. Not before Blake was certain that in a few short seconds that the
other's fingers had been in contact with the crystal an orange-red mist
had begun to collect within. Before he could ask a question a warning buzz
from a plate set in the wall was an interruption.
There followed the hum of the elevator and Hoyt answered the door,
admitting his small comrade of the early morning.
"Everything satisfactory?" That was Kittson.
"Yes," the voice was light, musical. He might have been a boy hardly
out of his teens, until you saw his eyes, assessed the very faint lines about
his almost-too-well shaped mouth. "There was a tail: that squat punk from
the Crystal Bird. You'd think they wouldn't use the same men so often."
"The supply of proper material may be strictly limited," suggested
Saxton.
"For which we should give thanks," Kittson caught him up. "One raid, if
we could be sure of getting all the dupes together, would put our friend