"Reed, Robert - TheRemoras" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reed Robert)

ROBERT REED

THE REMORAS

QUEE LEE'S APARTMENT covered several hectares within one of the human districts,
some thousand kilometers beneath the ship's hull. It wasn't a luxury unit by any
measure. Truly wealthy people owned as much as a cubic kilometer for themselves
and their entourages. But it had been her home since she had come on board, for
more centuries than she could count, its hallways and large rooms as comfortable
to her as her own body.

The garden room was a favorite. She was enjoying its charms one afternoon, lying
nude beneath a false sky and sun, eyes closed and nothing to hear but the splash
of fountains and the prattle of little birds. Suddenly her apartment interrupted
the peace, announcing a visitor. "He has come for Perri, miss. He claims it's
most urgent."

"Perri isn't here," she replied, soft gray eyes opening. "Unless he's hiding
from both of us, I suppose."

"No, miss. He is not." A brief pause, then the voice said, "I have explained
this to the man, but he refuses to leave. His name is Orleans. He claims that
Perri owes him a considerable sum of money."

What had her husband done now? Quee Lee could guess, halfway smiling as she sat
upright. Oh, Perri . . . . won't you learn . . . . ? She would have to dismiss
this Orleans fellow herself, spooking him with a good hard stare. She rose and
dressed in an emerald sarong, then walked the length of her apartment, never
hurrying, commanding the front door to open at the last moment but leaving the
security screen intact. And she was ready for someone odd. Even someone sordid,
knowing Peru. Yet she didn't expect to see a shiny lifesuit more than two meters
tall and nearly half as wide, and she had never imagined such a face gazing down
at her with mismatched eyes. It took her along moment to realize this was a
Remora. An authentic Remora was standing in the public walkway, his vivid round
face watching her. The flesh was orange with diffuse black blotches that might
or might not be cancers, and a lipless, toothless mouth seemed to flow into a
grin. What would bring a Remora here? They never, never came down here . . . !

"I'm Orleans." The voice was sudden and deep, slightly muted by the security
screen. It came from a speaker hidden somewhere on the thick neck, telling her,
"I need help, miss. I'm sorry to disturb you . . . but you see, I'm desperate. I
don't know where else to turn."

Quee Lee knew about Remoras. She had seen them and even spoken to a few,
although those conversations were eons ago and she couldn't remember their
substance. Such strange creatures. Stranger than most aliens, even if they
possessed human souls . . . .