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

Her voice was a shout of triumph filling the room with
gladness and, he thought, relief.

Relief which in no way could equal his own. "Are you certain?"

"Listen!" Her upheld hand demanded silence, All around, the
walls seemed to retain the tolling note of the bell so that
ghost-echoes quivered in the air and tricked the senses. Yet there
was no substance to the sound. It was nothing but a ghost
lingering in his own brain, whispering in his ears.

"Sixteen, Adara! You were number eighteen and I was
twenty-two. We're safe! Safe!"

His hand trembled as it reached for the wine. Red or blue, did
it matter? Yet red was the color of blood, and blue of hope. Now
there was no need of hope. Ruby liquid spattered as he shakily
poured it. A man reborn, reprieved. The wine slid down his
throat as if it had been water, his goblet refilled before the
woman had lifted her own.

"To life," she said.

"Eloise!"

"To life," she repeated doggedly. "And to hell with conventions
which insist that no one must speak of life or death, or the crazy
pattern of the city in which we're stuck. To hell with the city. To
hell with Camolsaer!"

"You're drunk!" he shouted. "Drunk or mad!"
 "Not drunk, Adara. And not scared. The bell has tolled,
remember? The choice has been made. Those poor, damned fools
who lost have gone to their living hell. Gone, or on their way. So
drink, you fool, and enjoy life. Enjoy it while you can."

She drank, throwing back her head; the slender length of her
throat fully exposed, taut, lovely. With an abrupt gesture she
threw aside the empty glass so that it shattered into fragments
against the wall and then reached towards him, hands extended,
eyes enormous with emotion.

"Eloise!"

She stepped closer; her mouth wide, sensuous, the lips full
and softly moist.

"No!" He backed, cautious, afraid.