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

"You coward!" Her voice, still musical, now held the chill of
contempt. "Afraid to drink too much. Afraid to break things.
Afraid even to make love too often. Terrified even to talk about
life and death, and what happens to those who have lost. Fear. Is
that what rules you? Are you so in love with it that you can't
remember what it is to be a man? Have you ever known?"

"Eloise! Please!"

Camolsaer would be watching, noting; measuring the
emotional content, the amount drunk, everything. He saw her
hands come towards him, the fingers curved, light reflected from
the points of her sharpened nails. They touched his cheeks and
he felt the stab of incipient pain, yet could do nothing to prevent
her stripping the flesh with her talons if she so desired.

And then, abruptly, she dropped her hands.

"Reaction," she said huskily. "It hits people in different ways.
Let's get the hell out of here."

***

The city was at gruesome play. A long conga line of
near-naked men and women wound down the passages, past the
adornments, beneath the arched roofs and down the ramp into
the main assembly hall. There, at the far end, a man stood
between two Monitors. At least he seemed to be standing and
then, Adara saw that he was being supported at each side, his
feet hanging inches above the floor.

"Larchen," said a man at his side. "Number four. He tried to
put a good face on it, but collapsed and tried to run. A bad thing
to have happened."

"And Thichent?"

"As you'd expect. He drew the prime and knew there could be
only one end. He left the party at the first knell; an example to us
all." He smiled at Eloise, bobbing his head. "You look superb, my
dear, but then you always do. A little wine?"

"Aren't you afraid of Camolsaer?"

"After the bell there is always a period of grace. Didn't Adara
explain that? Drinks taken now are not counted. A concession for
which we must be grateful. But surely you know this?"

She had known it, realized Adara sickly. It had been himself
who had forgotten. Or perhaps not forgotten, but distrusted. The