"Resnick, Mike - Oracle 2 - Oracle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

The heads of a quartet of alien carnivores, each snarling in mute defiance, were positioned above the long hardwood bar and in a glass case just next to the changemaker was a tattered copy of a poem written by Black Orpheus, the Bard of the Inner Frontier, which he had created and autographed when he had stopped on Last Chance for an evening some two centuries ago.
Twenty humans, some dressed in colorful and expensive garments, others wearing the dull browns and grays of miners and prospectors, stood at the bar or sat at tables. None of them paid her any attention as she entered the tavern, looked around for a moment, and finally approached the bartender.
"I'm looking for a man known as the Iceman," she said. "Is he here?"
The bartender nodded his head. "Right over there, sitting by the window."
"Will he speak to me?" she asked.
The bartender chuckled. "That depends on his mood. But he'll listen to you."
She thanked him and walked over to the Iceman' s table, giving the aliens a wide berth as she did so.
"May I join you?" she asked.
"Pull up a chair, Mrs. Bailey," he said.
She looked surprised. "You know who I am?"
"No," he answered. "But I know your name."
"How?"
"You had to identify yourself when you requested landing coordinates," said the Iceman. "Nobody lands on Last Chance without my approval."
"I see," she said, sitting down. She stared across the table. "I can't believe that I've finally found you!"
"I wasn't lost, Mrs. Bailey," he said expressionlessly.
"Perhaps not, but I've been looking for you for more than four years."
"And what's so important that you would spend Four years of your life trying to find me?"
"My name is Bettina Bailey," she began.
"I know."
"Does it mean anything to you?"
"Should it?"
"If the name Bailey doesn't, then I've wasted an enormous amount of time."
"I've never heard of anyone called Bettina Bailey," he replied noncommittally.
"I've heard stories -- rumors, really, to be honest -- that you may have known my daughter."
"Go on," said the Iceman.
"Her name is Penelope."
The Iceman pulled out a small cigar. "What did you hear?"
"I heard that you knew her." Bettina Bailey paused, studying the Iceman's face. "I've even heard that she spent some time on Last Chance."
"That was fourteen years ago, Mrs. Bailey," said the Iceman, lighting his cigar. "I haven't seen her since." He shrugged. "For all I know, she's dead now."
Bettina Bailey stared unblinking at him. "If we're talking about the same girl, you know that's impossible."
The Iceman returned her stare for a long moment, as if considering his answer. Finally he took another puff of his cigar and nodded. "We're talking about the same girl."
"She would be twenty-two years old now."
"That would be about right," agreed the Iceman.
Bettina Bailey paused again. "I've heard other rumors, too," she said at last.
"Such as?"
"That she's living with aliens."
"An alien," the Iceman corrected her.
"Then you know where she is?"
He shook his head. "No. I just know who she was with the last time I saw her."
"I've also heard that you've spent a lot of time looking for her," continued Bettina Bailey.
He stared impassively at her and made no answer.
"And that you know more about her than any other man alive," she continued.
"It's possible," he agreed.
"It's more than possible. It's a fact."
"All right, it's a fact. Now what?"
"I want my daughter back."
"Pardon my pointing it out, Mrs. Bailey, but it took you long enough to come to that decision."
"I have been looking for her for sixteen years." She paused. "She was taken from me in the Democracy. The Democracy encompasses more than ten thousand worlds; it took me more than a decade, and most of my late husband's money, to discover that she was no longer there, but was on the Inner Frontier."
"She was on the Inner Frontier fourteen years ago, Mrs. Bailey," said the Iceman. "She could be anywhere now -- the Inner Frontier, the Rim, the Spiral Arm, the Outer Frontier, even back in the Democracy. It wouldn't be difficult for someone with her abilities to hide from anyone who was looking for her."
"She's on the Inner Frontier," repeated Bettina Bailey adamantly.