"E. C. Tubb - Dumarest 12 - Eloise" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tubb E. C)

"A stranger?" The musical resonance of her voice held an acid
amusement. "You say that, after so long?"

"You were not born here."

"True, thank God. But does that assume a lack of
comprehension?" She rose as he hesitated, the thin fabrics she
wore streaming behind her as she stepped towards him; the
scent of her perfume signaled her proximity. "Adara! My friend!"

Their hands touched, softness against softness, the delicate
fingers no harder than his own. Her body too, he knew, held a
more than equal strength. Once it had disturbed him; now there
was no time or room for concern. And yet he was grateful for her
presence.
 His hand shook a little as he reached for the wine.

"So soon, Adara?"

"You deny me?"

"NothingтАФI owe you too much for that. But do you think it
wise?"

"You tell me that. You provided it."

"To celebrate."

He lifted the lambent fluid trapped in its container of crystal
and looked at the vivid blueness. One glass would do no harm.
Two even and, if things went against him, what did it matter
how much he swallowed? And he needed the strength it could
lend.

"To celebrate," he said, mocking her tone. "To show my
gratitude? To what? The Goddess of Luck you have so often
mentioned? You see, my dear, how you have corrupted me. In
this place there is no such thing as luck."

"Nor guts either, from what I've seen!" Immediately she was
contrite. "I'm sorry. You can't help being what you are and, God
knows, I've little cause to berate you. It's just that, at times, IтАФ"

"Will you join me?"

"No." She had sensed the raw emotion within him, the
turmoil which could be controlled only by an effort. "Drink if it
pleases you, my friend. Drink and be happy for tomorrow we
die."