"Mike Resnick - Frankie the Spook" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

is superceded only by your ignorance of the English language."
"That's why I need you."
"No."
"But I've got a contract."
"No."
"And it's got penalty clauses for coming in late."
"Then submit it on time."
"And if the editor rejects it, I've got to return the
advance."
"What is that to me?"
"If I have to return the advance, I'll have to pawn the
computer to raise the money."
"Good," said Bacon. "Then I'll soon be speaking with someone
who has a serious interest in _exchanging_ ideas rather than
stealing them."
"I didn't steal anything!" snapped Marvin.
"Marvin, I hate to be blunt, but you haven't had an original
idea in your nondescript life." Bacon grimaced. "At least
Shakespeare knew he wanted to write plays."
"And you helped him."
"_Helped_ him?" repeated Bacon furiously. "Who do you think
_wrote_ all those plays?" His image made an effort to recover its
self-control. "The man was a fool, a complete and utter fool! To
his dying day, he never understood why I wouldn't write _Henry
IX_! And yet, even now, centuries later, that dimwit gets all the
credit for _my_ work, _my_ creativity, _my_ genius -- and you have
the gall to ask me to become a ghostwriter again?"
"I didn't know you were so bitter," said Marvin.
"Did you know that that moron wanted to set _Troilus and
Cressida_ in Rome?"
"Rome's a very pretty city, I'm told," offered Marvin.
"Bah!" muttered Bacon. "Turn me off."
"I can't," said Marvin. "The book is due in two weeks."
"Rome's a very pretty city, I'm told," echoed Bacon
sarcastically. "Perhaps you can hide there from your creditors."
"You're not being very responsive," complained Marvin.
"I'm certain that I will regret having asked, but how did a
literary maladroit like you ever receive a commission to write a
book in the first place?"
"My ex-wife's cousin is an editor. I got the assignment while
we were still married."
"Anyone who buys a manuscript from you deserves exactly what
he gets," said Bacon. "Which, in my professional opinion, will be
nothing."
"But I can't return the advance," whined Marvin. "It's
already spent."
"A Shakespearean tragedy," said Bacon mockingly.
"What do you want?"
"Peace and quiet."
"I mean, to write the book?"