"John Varley - Gaea 2 - Wizard" - читать интересную книгу автора (Varley John)

"There's only one quilted Titanide in West America, and he's a male, and his name is
Tzigane." She narrowed her eyes at Chris'fer. "Was this a recreational plunge, or did he have a
more pressing reason?"
"I'd say he discovered a sudden need to be in Marin County. There were about fifty people
chasing him."
She grimaced. "Hanging around bars again. He got one taste of human ass, and now he can't
seem to get enough. Well, sit down, I'll have to try to square this with the police." She picked
up an old-fashioned blind phone and told it to connect her with City Hall. Chris'fer pulled the
only chair in the room closer to the desk and sat on it. While she talked, he looked around her
office.
It was large, as it had to be to accommodate a Titanide. It contained many nineteenth- and
twentieth-century antiques and art objects, but very little furniture. A long-handled water pump
was bolted to the floor in one corner, and the bare bulb that hung from the center of the room was


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hooded by a leaded Tiffany shade. A freestanding wood stove was near the room's only window. There
were paintings and posters on the walls: a Picasso, a Warhol, a J.G. Minton, and a little black
sign with orange letters reading "Some Day I'm Going to Have to Get ORGANIZED!" Behind the desk
were two photos and a portrait. They depicted Johann Sebastian Bach, John Philip Sousa, and Gaea
as seen from space. On the desk was a silver bucket of limes.
Half the floor was covered in a thin layer of hay. There were bales of it stacked in a
corner. Ambassador Cantata hung up the phone and reached for an open bottle of tequila and the
bucket, popped a lime into her mouth, crunched it, and drank half the bottle. She made a face at
him.
"You wouldn't have any salt, would you?"
He shook his head.
"Too bad. Want a drink? How about a lime? I think I have a knife. . . ." She started to
rummage through drawers, stopped when he politely refused.
"He looked like a female to me," Chris'fer said.
"Huh? Oh, you mean Tzigane. No, I'm familiar with the mistake-it was the breasts that fooled
you; we all have them-but he's a male. It's the frontal organs that determine it. Between the
front legs. Tzigane's are kind of hard to see from a distance, with that pattern of squares. I,
for your information, am female, you may call me Dulcimer, and what is your name and what can I do
for you?"
He sat up a little straighter. "My name is Chris'fer Minor, and I want a visa. I'd like to
see Gaea."
She had written his name on a form from a stack on her desk. Now she looked up and moved the
form away.
"We sell visas in all the major airports," she said. "No need to see me. Just come up with
the cash and put it in the vending machine."
"No," he said, voice a little unsteady. "I want to see Gaea herself. I have to see her. She's
my last chance."




2 The Mad Major