"Charles Stross - Rogue Farm" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stross Charles)

"Fertilizer." His mind blanked for a moment.

"Nitrates."

He glanced down, saw her grinning at him. Her perfect fifth set of teeth glowed
alarmingly in the greenish overspill from the light on her jammer box.

"Tha' knows it make sense," she added, then cut the jammer.

###

When Joe finally staggered home in the small hours, a thin plume of smoke was rising
from Bob's kennel. Joe paused in front of the kitchen door and sniffed anxiously, then
relaxed. Letting go of the door handle he walked over to the kennel and sat down
outside. Bob was most particular about his den -- even his own humans didn't go in
there without an invitation. So Joe waited.

A moment later there was an interrogative cough from inside. A dark, pointed snout
came out, dribbling smoke from its nostrils like a particularly vulpine dragon. "Rrrrrrr?"

"'S'me."
"Uuurgh." A metallic click. "Smoke good smoke joke cough tickle funny arf arf?"

"Yeah, don't mind if I do."

The snout pulled back into the kennel; a moment later it re-appeared, teeth clutching a
length of hose with a mouthpiece on one end. Joe accepted it graciously, wiped off the
mouthpiece, leaned against the side of the kennel, and inhaled. The weed was potent
and smooth: within a few seconds the uneasy dialogue in his head was still.

"Wow, tha's a good turn-up."

"Arf-arf-ayup."

Joe felt himself relaxing. Maddie would be upstairs, snoring quietly in their decrepit bed:
waiting for him, maybe. But sometimes a man just had to be alone with his dog and a
good joint, doing man-and-dog stuff. Maddie understood this and left him his space. Still
...

"'At farm been buggering around the pond?"

"Growl exclaim fuck-fuck yup! Sheep-shagger."

"If it's been at our lambs --"

"Nawwwwrr. Buggrit."

"So whassup?"

"Grrrr, Maddie yap-yap farmtalk! Sheepshagger."