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

walked out upon Shermond Boulevard. South beyond Old City,
Cloudhaven rode among the sunset clouds; in the halcyon light it seemed
as if it might have been, or should have been, the culminating glory of
human endeavor; but everyone knew differently.
"I'd rather have an aerie," muttered Bo.
One of Hernanda's few faults was a tendency to enunciate the obvious
with the air of one transmitting a startling new truth. "You're not licensed
for an aerie. They only give them to O.T.E.'s."
"That's all tripe. They should go to whoever can pay for them."
"You still wouldn't have one."
"I'd get the money, never fear."
"Remember your probation."
"They'll never fix on me again."
Hernanda thought her private thoughts. She wanted Bo to take a
cottage in Galberg, and work in the artificial flavor factory. Tonight the
prospect seemed as flimsy as smoke. "Where are we going?"
"I thought we'd look into Kongo's for the news."
"I don't like Kongo's all that much."
Bo said nothing. If Hernanda did not like Kongo's she could go
somewhere else. And only as recently as yesterday she had seemed such a
prize!
They rode the slideway to the Prospect Escalator and up to Dip-shaw
Knob. Kongo's Blue Lamp Tavern commanded a fine view of the River
Louthe, the spaceyards and most of West Hant, and was old beyond record
or calculation. The woodwork was stained black, the brick floors were
worn with the uneven passage of footsteps; the ceiling was lost in the dark
blur of time. Tall windows looked across the far vistas of Hant, and on a
rainy day Kongo's was a tranquil haven from which to contemplate the
city.
 Kongo's reputation was not altogether savory; curious events had
occurred on the premises or shortly after patrons had departed. The Blue
Lamp was known as a place where one must keep his wits about him, but
the reputation incurred no loss of patronage; indeed the suffusion of vice
and danger attracted folk from all Hant, as well as backland tourists and
spacemen.
Bo led Hernanda to his usual booth, and found there a pair of his
cronies: Raulf Dido and Paul Amhurst. Bo and Hernanda seated
themselves without words of greeting, according to the tenets of current
custom.
Bo presently said, "The spaceyard keeps me off punition, but this aside,
it's just too bad."
"You're earning an honest wage," said Raulf Dido.
"Hah! Bah! Bo Histledine, a sixteen-dollar-a-day apprentice? You give
me fits!"
"Talk to Paul. He's on to something good."
"It's a beautiful new line of gunk," said Paul Amhurst. "It's produced in
Aquitaine and it's as good as the best."
He displayed a selection of stills; the views were vivid and provocative.
"Ow-wow," said Bo. "That's good stuff. I'll take some of that myself."
Hernanda made a restless movement and pouted; it was bad manners