"Madeleine E Robins - Abelard's Kiss" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robins Madeleine E)

"Too obvious." Beatrice smiled, a whiteness glittering in the dusk. She flicked
a row of switches and the copter hummed to life. In the fading daylight and the
green glow of the instrument panel, Beatrice looked unearthly, vivid and
perfect, her long fingers manipulating the toggles and dials expertly.

"Besides," she added once they were up in the air. "Abelard sounds sexier." It
certainly did the way Beatrice said it, a sigh rolled along the tongue.

For ten minutes Susannah fought the temptation to ask, "Where did it come from?"
Finally, unasked, Beatrice said, "I had him made for me. One of the
bioengineering places squeezed my order in between batches of interferon or
something, I understand it isn't hard to do. Just expensive." Beatrice lingered
on the word. "A parent tissue, a little fuddling with DNA, program in some
instincts. . . . " Her voice was an elegant drawl, only her smile in the
near-darkness was lewd. "There's only one in the world, and it's mine."

"Beatie--" Susannah murmured.

"I know you'll keep this a secret, love. It's not breaking the law, but. . .
bending it a little."

Susannah stared into the deepening gloom. Below them scavenger boats fished
scrap metal from the Long Island Sound; to the right in the distance the squat
buildings of the rebuilt South Bronx Hospice glittered silently. After their
hungry, grubby childhood, Susannah had continued on to college, gone to work,
built up a small independence for herself. Grubbed for money, Beatrice said, and
shook her head. Her path had been very different. Beatrice had worked only as
long as it took to find, and marry, Felix Ferrar-Giroux, one of the mysteriously
wealthy men who had emerged after the Everything. He took her home to Tamerlane,
a huge house on the Sound that unfolded like a tesseract, disclosing rooms where
none could logically be, and there Beatrice learned to spend his money. He
encouraged her extravagances as if he were feeding a rare bird. No impulse too
wild, no whim too expensive. Including, it appeared, this new extravagance.

I will keep my mouth shut, Susannah thought grimly. I will look at her new toy
-- despite herself a flush of warmth spread through her at the thought -- and
then I will go home.

At Tamerlane they were met at the door by a superior-looking manservant who took
Susannah's three-year-old cloth coat with as much ceremony as he did Beatrice's
fur. Beatrice led Sue to a small den and poured wine for them both.

"You must relax, Susah! You take everything so seriously. There, drink that. Why
are you so edgy?"

"I'm not edgy, but I have work at home I need to get through tonight."

"Susah, you can't let work rule your life," Beatrice said irritably. "