"Kevin O'Donnel Jr. - The Journeys of McGill Feighan 04] - Cliffs" - читать интересную книгу автора (O'Donnell Jr Kevin)

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I owe thanks to Mary Kittredge, Mark J. McGarry, and Joel Rosenberg
for their helpful comments on earlier drafts of this book; to Melissa
Ann Singer and Beth Fleisher for editing it so well; to Howard
Morhaim for handling all the business details with his customary skill;
to Janet Aulisio for four marvelous McGill Feighan cover paintings; and
of course, to my wife Kim Tchang, for her love and her understanding.


To Mark J. McGarry,
for years of friendship,
for moral support and insightful criticism,
and for his dreams of EMPIRE, too,
 I dedicate this book with affection and gratitude.




Chapter I
^┬╗

Tuesday, 22 September 2105
тАФThursday, 24 September 2105

Autumn had officially, if just barely, come to New York. Already the
morning wind down Park Avenue drove a hint of winter before it. The day
would surely warm up, but at the moment McGill Feighan needed to
indulge in a small shiver.
A high, thin voice said, "If you're cold, just think how I feel!"
Feighan looked down from his one hundred ninety centimeters at Sam,
his three-year-old ward. "A good brisk walk will warm you up."
"I'm not a mammal, McGill, and this is not a brisk walk." Sam lashed his
long tail from side to side in irritation; the knife-blade fins that marched the
length of his backbone had shriveled in their attempt to conserve his body
heat. Eight a.m. light glinted dully off his mottled green scales. "My legs are
shorter than yours, even if I do have four of them, so I hafta run to keep up
with you and it's just too cold to run. This is a dumb idea, McGill."
"It's only four blocks. And we do need the exercise, kid."
"You need the exercise. I don't eat half a bag of cookies every night."
"Only 'cause I've got them on a shelf you can't reach."
"Why I'm not getting fat isn't the point, McGill." They stopped at a corner
for the light to change. A crowd of pedestrians clumped up around them,
apparently ignoring Sam's alienness, but keeping an extra centimeter
between themselves and him nonetheless. "The point is, you're getting fat,
and I'm getting cold because of it." He yawned; his magenta tongue curled
out from his sharp-toothed mouth. "Besides, I'm sleepy."