"Mary Rosenblum - Jumpers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rosenblum Mary)

fungus there has infected the wasp with its spores. It will die, and its corpse will nourish the spores as
they begin to grow. But it will not die before it has laid its eggs on the back of a green caterpillar. The
larvae will burrow into the caterpillar and eat it hollow. So you see?" His eyes bored into Joaquin's.
"There is no real escape. Who loves you, kid?"

Joaquin watched the wasp stretch its transparent wings and shuddered. "My father loves his son. He'll
pay for his son, if you demand ransom from him." He lifted his eyes to meet Silvano's dark stare.
"Understand that he will punish you for doing that тАж asking him."

"I'll take my chances," Silvano drawled.

"What do you want the money for?" He looked around at the crude platforms. "You want to go buy
stuff? Live in a gated condo on a nice clean beach?"

"I would like your father's private access," Silvano said gently. "There is only one way to jump out of my
universe, no matter what your dark friends may do."

Joaquin looked down toward the invisible, shadowed ground. "Two weeks," he said. "I want two weeks
to record my jumpers. I'll pay you. Not as much as my father, but тАФ you can take the money and be
safe." He looked up, met Silvano's dark stare. "I just want two weeks. I just want to prove that other
beings are passing through our universe. This is going to be my only chance."

"Why?"

"Because my father will make sure I never touch this equipment again, and nobody really believes
Czenko's theory these days."

Silvano laughed, throwing his head back so that his ugly, crooked teeth flashed in the light that filtered
through the leaves. "You really are nuts," he said. "I like that. You give me your father's access now, and
I'll give you your two weeks. After that, I present your daddy with a fat bill."

"You'd be better off to take what I can give you." Joaquin shrugged at Silvano's head-shake. "My father
will pay you whatever you want. Punishment rarely has anything to do with money." Joaquin recited his
father's private access. It sometimes bothered him that he remembered it so easily when he normally
couldn't remember an access for shit. There was a truth there that he didn't want to examine too closely.
He closed his eyes, his vision webbed with blood red lightnings that danced in time to the throbbing in his
head

Silvano grasped Joaquin's chin with surprisingly gentle fingers. He peered into Joaquin's eyes one after
the other, then nodded, apparently satisfied. "I thought they had cracked your skull for a while."

"It hurts." Joaquin touched blood-matted hair and winced.

"Zlia will fix it. She'll feed you, too." Silvano pulled out a tiny remote-control unit.

"What about my equipment?" Joaquin scrambled to his feet as a miniature hover suddenly rose from the
shadows. It had room for a single person, and cargo clasps beneath it.

"Go ahead and set it up." Silvano leaped lightly into the seat of the open cockpit, unperturbed as the
machine shied skittishly. "Ask Zlia." The hover darted up and into the canopy, scattering leaves and torn