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

mean that you think I'm like a bird or a rat or a dog?"
"No, of course not!" Alice laughed at the quaint conceit. "I mean that
we're people of different societies. I'm a starlander; you're an urbanite.
Yours is a very old way of life, which is perhaps a bit-well, let's say,
passive, or introverted."
Bo grunted. "If you say so. I never thought about it that way. Anyway
just yonder is a branch of the Synthetique. Do you care to eat there? It's
on me."
"No, I think not," said Alice. "I've seen those colored pastes and
nutritious shreds of bark and they don't look very good. I think I'll go up
home for lunch. So once again: goodbye. Have a good lunch."
"Wait!" cried Bo. "I've got a better idea! I know another place, an old
tavern where spacemen and all kinds of people go. It's very old and
famous: Hongo's Blue Lamp. It would be a shame if you didn't see it." He
modulated his voice into that husky cajoling tone which had always
dissolved female will power like warm water on sugar. "Come along, I'll
buy you a nice lunch and we'll get to know each other better."
Alice smiled politely and shook her head. "I think I'll be getting on.
Thank you anyway."
Bo stood back, mouth compressed. He turned glumly away, raising a
hand to his face. The gesture closed a circuit in Alice's memory-bank.
Why, this was the man who had victimized Waldo! How very odd! What a
strange coincidence that she should meet him at the Academy!
Coincidence? The chances seemed remote. She asked, "What is your
name?"
Bo spoke in a grumbling resentful voice. "Bo, short for Bodred. The last
name is Histledine."
"Bodred Histledine. And you work at the spaceyards?"
Bo nodded. "What's your name?"
Alice seemed not to hear. "Perhaps I'll have lunch at this tavern after
allтАФif you care to show me the way."
"It's not exactly a big expedition, with me running ahead like a guide,"
growled Bo. "I'll take you there as my guest."
"No, I wouldn't care for that," said Alice. "But I'll visit this tavern: yes. I
think I'd like to talk with you."



6
Waldo pushed the photograph across the desk to Inspector Vole, who
examined it with care. "The man isn't identifiable, as you can see for
yourself," said Vole. "The womanтАФI don't recognize her, but I'll put her
through identification procedure and maybe something will show up." He
departed the room. Waldo sat drumming his fingers. From time to tune a
faint waft of jeek body-tar odor reached his nostrils, causing him to wince
and twist his head.
Inspector Vole returned with the photograph and a print-out bearing
the likenesses of a dozen women. He pushed the sheet across the desk.
"This is what the machine gave me. Do you recognize any of them?"
Waldo nodded. "This is the one." He touched a face on the sheet.