"Jeff Vandermeer- Veniss Underground" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vandermeer Jeff)

тАЬHello, Nick,тАЭ Shadrach replied, looking out at the canals.

(тАЬHello, Nick,тАЭ he says, after all the compli- and condiments I'd given him!)

Shadrach is a tall, muscular man with a tan, a flattened nose from his days as courier between
city-statesтАФthe funny people gave him thatтАФand a dour mouth. His clothes are all out-of-date, his boots
positively reeking of antiquity. Still thinks he's a Twenty-seventh-Century Man, if you know what I mean,
and, again, you probably don't. (After all, you are sitting here in a garbage zone with me.)

тАЬSo, how're things with you?тАЭ I said, anticipating that I'd have to drag him kicking and screaming to my
point.

тАЬFine,тАЭ he said. тАЬYou look bad, though.тАЭ No smile.

I suppose I did look bad. I suppose I must have, still bandaged up and a swell on my head that a
geosurfer would want to ride.

тАЬThanks,тАЭ I said, wondering why all my words, once smartly deployed for battle, had left me.

тАЬNo problem,тАЭ he said.

I could tell Shadrach wasn't in a talking mood. More like a Dead Art mood as he watched the canals.

And then the miracle: He roused himself from his canal contemplation long enough to say, тАЬI could get
you protection,тАЭ all the while staring at me like I was a dead man, which is the selfsame stare he always
has. But here was my chance.

тАЬLike what, you shiller?тАЭ I said. тАЬA whole friggin' police unit all decked out in alkie and shiny new
bribes?тАЭ

He shrugged and said, тАЬI'm trying to help. Small fish need a hook to catch bigger fish.тАЭ

тАЬNot a bad turn of phrase,тАЭ I said, lying. тАЬYou get that from looking into the water all damn day? What I
need is Quin.тАЭ

Shadrach snorted, said, тАЬYou are desperate. An invite to Quin?тАЭ He wouldn't meet my gaze directly, but
edged around it, edged in between it. тАЬMaybe in a million years you'd build up the contacts,тАЭ he said,
тАЬthe raw money and influence.тАЭ

I turned away, because that stung. The robbery stung, the not-being-able-to-sell-the-art stung. Life
stung. And stunk.
тАЬEasy for you, Shadrach,тАЭ I said. тАЬYou're not a Living Artist. I don't need an invite. Just give me the
address and I'll go myself to beg a meerkat. Anything extra I do on my own.тАЭ

Shadrach frowned, said, тАЬYou do not know what you are asking for, Nicholas.тАЭ I thought I saw fear in
himтАФfear and an uncharacteristic glimpse of compassion. тАЬYou will get hurt. I know youтАФand I know
Quin. Quin isn't in it for the Living Art. He's in it for other reasons entirely. Things I don't even know.тАЭ

By now I'd begun to break out in the sweats and a moist heat was creeping up my throat, and, hey,
maybe I'd had too much on the drug-side on the way down, so I put a hand on his arm, as much to keep