"Spider Robinson - The End of the Painbow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robinson Spider)

"No, DrinkтАФmy people came over a century and a half ago. But awhile back I reached the age
where a man starts to wonder about his roots."
"How'd ya know da guy's name wuz Noggin Ian?" Eddie asked.
The cluricaune opened one eye. "Me name is unknown to you yet, gallinaceous repugnant
orangutang," he muttered. "Aye, `Naggeneen' is what folks call a cluricaune, just a generical term for the
breed: freely translated, it means 'a short beer.' Have yez got any here?"
"Not since you showed up, bock-sucker," Eddie said bitterly.
The cluricaune went back to sleep. Noisily. His stupendous white beard floated above his torso,
curling up slightly at the end.
"He'll never tell anyone his real name, Eddie," I said. "In magical terms, it'd be kind of like giving
somebody your credit cards."
"Jesus, Jake," Doc Webster said, "skip the family history and nomenclature, will you? This is
seriousтАФwhat do we do about this joker? How do you decluricaune a bar?"
The bad news first. "The only thing you can usually do to get rid of a cluricaune is go on the wagon,
and stay there so long that he gives up and goes looking for a better 'ole."
"How long does dat take?" Eddie asked.
"I've heard of up to fifty years," I said.
"Fifty years?" Margie Shorter groaned. "What's the low end?"
"I've heard of as little as a year," I said.
Rooba roobaтАФ
"I don't tink I can wait dat long," the little piano man said, frowning deeply. "I gotta toist myself "
"You said 'the only thing you can usually do ...тАЩ" the Doc said.
Now the good news. I smiled for the first time in what seemed like a long while. "Well, they say that
once in a hundred years or so, and mind you, only if you happen to have a pure heart, an eye that sees no
evil, a fleet foot, the grip of a lobsterman, andтАФ" I glanced at the Duck "тАФthe luck of the Devil himself
... you might just be lucky enough to capture the cluricaune, in iron. Then you're in Fat City. It now
appears that between us, we made the nut."

"So where's the trigger?" Noah asked. "Now that we have him located, secured and accessed, how
do we disarm him?"
Noah used to be a bomb-disposal expert for the county heat, until there was a spot of
unpleasantness over his taking a terrorist nuclear weapon he was working on home for personal use, and
not bringing it back. Since no citizens or legal aliens had perished as a result (just a single alien, without
papers ... and a very nice tavern), no charges had been preferredтАФbut he'd been transferred out of the
Bomb Squad for good. He missed it fiercely, and still tended to think in those terms.
"Hear that, gang?" I said. "Noah has exactly the right mindset. Think of it like we're looking at a live,
tickingтАФno, snoring bomb. Everything is going to be perfectly all rightтАФas long as we don't make any
mistakes." I grinned. "The good news is, the snoring bomb is made of solid gold. If we handle this right,
we can literally have just about Anything In The World We Want. I don't want to jinx it, but if we don't
blow this, I think we truly may just have come to the End Of The PainbowтАФ"
"I just wishтАФ" Fast Eddie began.
"SSSHHHH!" Long-Drink and I said at once.
He looked offended. "I was just gonna say I wтАФ"
"Shut up, Eddie!" we both bellowed, fear making us sound enraged. Fast Eddie blinked, opened his
mouth to speak a third time ... saw us draw breath to shriek at him, and subsided. "Jeezis Christ," he
muttered, shaking his head. "Nice manners, you mugs."
Close call. "That's exactly what I was just getting to," I said quickly. "Once you capture a cluricaune,
you get three wishes."
ROOBA ROOBA ROOBA!
"The first three wishes spoken aloud...."