"Jack Vance - Assault on a City" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vance Jack)

long enough, you'll very likely become dazed. Most people do."
Waldo gave a skeptical grunt. "Where did you learn that?"
"It's common knowledgeтАФat least among neurologists."
"I'm no neurologist. Are you?"
"No. But our odd-jobs man on Rampold is, or at least claims to be. He's
also a magician, bear wrestler, cryptologist, boat-builder, herbalist, and
half a dozen other wonderful things. Mother considers him bizarre, but I
admire him tremendously, because he is competent. He's taught me all
kinds of useful skills." Alice picked a pink flower from a potted plant
beside the table. She placed it on the table, and put her hands down flat,
covering the flower. "Which hand is it under?"
Waldo somewhat condescendingly pointed to her left hand. Alice lifted
her right hand to reveal a red flower.
"Aha," said Waldo. "You picked two flowers! Lift your other hand."
Alice lifted her left hand. On the table glittered the gold ornament
which had hung at Waldo's ear. Waldo blinked, felt his ear, then stared at
Alice. "How did you get hold of that?"
"I took it while you were watching the lights. But where is the pink
flower?" She looked up, grinning like an imp. "Do you see it?"
 "No."
"Touch your nose."
Waldo blinked once more and touched his nose. "There's no flower
there."
Alice laughed in great merriment. "Of course not. What did you
expect?" She sipped from her goblet of punch, and Waldo, somewhat
annoyed, leaned back with his own glass of punch, to find within the pink
flower. "Very clever." He rose stiffly to his feet. "Shall we continue?"
"As soon as I photograph the picturesque couple at the table yonder.
They seem to know you. At least they've been watching us."
"I've never seen them before in my life," said Waldo. "Are you ready?
Let's go on."
They continued along the Parade.
"There's a really big jeek," said Alice. "What's that it's carrying?"
"Probably garbage for its soup. Don't stand too close behind it . . . Well,
we're behind it anyway. Just don't jostle it, orтАФ"
An arm reached in from the side and dealt the jeek's tail horn a
vigorous blow. Alice ducked aside; the spurt of body tar missed her and
struck Waldo on the neck and chest.



3
After his day's work Bo Histledine rode a slideway to the transit tube,
and was whisked northwest to Fulchock, where he inhabited a small
apartment in an ancient concrete warren. Waiting for him was Hernanda
Degasto Confurias, whom he had only recently wooed and won. Bo stood
in the doorway looking at her. She was perfectly turned out, he thought;
no one was more sensitive to the latest subtleties of fashion; no one
surpassed her at adapting them to herself, so that she and the style were
indistinguishable; with every change of clothes she assumed a