"Resnick, Mike - Oracle 3 - Prophet" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

The back room was as large as the tavern, and even more crowded. There were roulette tables, dice tables, poker tables, two tables boasting alien games of chance. He scanned the faces at the tables, wondering which of them, if any, was his quarry. Then, finally, he turned and walked over to the bar.
A balding, overweight man with a slight limp approached him from the other side of the bar.
"Good evening,'' he said. "What can I get for you?''
"A beer."
"Coming right up," said the man behind the bar, placing a mug under a tap and activating it. "I haven't seen you around here before."
"I just got here."
"Sorry we have such lousy weather today," continued the bartender. "Usually Last Chance is a pretty pleasant place, even a bit on the cool side."
"I didn't come here for the weather."
"Good. Then you won't be disappointed."
The man lifted the mug to his lips and downed half of it in a single long swallow.
"I need a little information," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"If it's mine to give," replied the bartender.
"I'm looking for someone."
"Well, I know almost everyone here. Who is it?"
"A man named Carlos Mendoza. Some people call him the Iceman."
"Mendoza, eh?" said the bartender. He looked around the room. "You owe him some money? I can give it to him for you."
"Just point him out to me."
"I hope you're not looking for trouble," said the bartender. "They say Mendoza is a pretty tough customer."
"What I'm looking for is none of your business," said the man coldly.
"Fine by me," said the bartender with a shrug. "I just figured that since you don't know him, probably you've been hired by someone who does know him. Thought I could save you a little misery."
"Save your thoughts for Mendoza."
"Well," said the bartender with another shrug, "at least you've been warned."
"All right, I've been warned," said the man. "Now, point him out to me."
"See that fellow sitting by himself in the corner?" asked the bartender. "The one dressed all in black?"
The man nodded. "He's armed like he's going into battle," he said. "Laser pistol, sonic gun, projectile pistol. Probably got a knife tucked into that boot, too."
"Actually, he's got a knife in each boot," said the bartender. He paused. "Are you really sure you want to go through with this?"
"It's my work," said the man, turning to face his prey.
"You could talk," suggested the bartender. "The Iceman's always willing to talk instead of fight."
"He is, huh?"
"That's what I hear."
"I don't get paid to talk," answered the man.
He took a few steps toward the man in black, then stopped.
"Mendoza!" he said in a loud voice.
Most of the action at the gaming tables stopped as the man in black looked up at him curiously.
"Are you talking to me?"
The man's fingers hovered above the hilt of his sonic pistol.
"Time to die, Mendoza."
"Do I know you?" asked the man in black.
"All you have to know is that I'm the last thing you're ever going to see."
Suddenly the newcomer flinched, and a puzzled expression crossed his face. He blinked his eyes rapidly, as if trying to comprehend what had happened, then groaned once and pitched forward on his face, a large knife protruding from his back.
The bartender limped over to him, withdrew the knife he had thrown with deadly accuracy, and wiped it off on a bar towel.
"They get younger and dumber every week," he said, turning the dead man onto his back with a foot. "No problem, friends," he announced, raising his voice. "Just our weekly visitor from wherever."
And because of who he was, most of the patrons took his word for it and returned to their drinks and their gambling.
The man in black walked over and stared at the corpse.
"Ever see him before?" asked the bartender.
"No," said the man in black. "You know who he is, Iceman?"
The Iceman shook his balding head. "No idea. But that's four of them this month. Somebody really wants me dead." He paused. "I just wish I knew why. I haven't been off the planet in damned near four years."
"If you hadn't killed him, maybe we could have found out," said the man in black. "After all, that's what you hired me for. You're not making my job any easier."
"I made your job easier," replied the Iceman. "He would have taken you."
The man in black frowned. "What makes you think so?"