"Alexei Panshin - New Celebrations" - читать интересную книгу автора (Panshin Alexei)

What follows is a gallery of gamblers, duels and double-crosses, a minuet of manners and manners
mangled; the machinery of the universe is speculated upon; inspector generals arrive to inspect it. And
Anthony Villiers, gentleman par excellence, dashes through it all, buckling a swash or two, bungling a
couple of others.

Mr. Villiers?

If you consider it impolite to strike up an acquaintance with someone you have not been formally
introduced to, wellтАФconsider the introduction made.


New York, April 1968
To history buffs, the year was 4171 A.U.C. To Christians, it was 3418. To Moslems, it was late in
the year 2882. But by common reckoning, the year was 1461.




1

The universal soil is not uniformly fertile. There are places where the stars donтАЩt grow. Cutting into the
edge of the Empire of Nashua is the Flammarion Rift, named afterтАФnever mind. Anyone dead that long
is fortunate even to be known by a hole.
The only features of the rift are a few pieces of random sky junk. No one knows where they came from.
No one has ever determined their number or charted their courses. However, there are rumors that a few
are inhabited by men who prefer a cold and irregular existence to the certainties of warmer climates.

One exception: one rock is a regular port of call for ships that venture into the rift. This planetoid, Star
Well, provides a rest in passage, warehouses, entertainment, comfort, gamesтАФeverything, in short, but a
sun, atmosphere, and close neighbors.
***

Anthony Villiers entered the casino in Star Well and looked about him with an elegant air of assurance
that some might have taken for arrogance. There was no day or night within the planetoid. Ships arrived
at irregular hours with passengers on every sort of sleeping and waking schedule. The casino was open
round the clock and the play remained constant hour to hour.
Villiers moved among the tables, pausing occasionally, watching the play and moving on. He placed no
bets himself. He was dressed ahead of the first fashion. His shoulder ribbons were green, his drapeau a
darker green. His heels were a half inch, moderate considering that his natural height was not great. His
hairтАФbrownтАФwas free.
He had been at Star Well through the arrival and departure of three ships and was beginning to be able to
find his way through the maze with a certain degree of confidence, and to recognize schedules. He raised
his eyebrows slightly to see that the floor man was Derek Godwin and not Hisan Bashir Shirabi, the
obsequious owner of Star Well, usually himself in charge at this hour.

Godwin was dressed stylishly, too, but where VilliersтАЩ clothes were a moderately voiced statement,
GodwinтАЩs were a strident claim, the choice of a man with an uncertain background or uncertain taste.
Nonetheless, he stood out in this company for other reasons: not only was he second in authority in Star
Well, but he had a certain reputation as a dangerous man.