"Joan D. Vinge - Fireship" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vinge Joan D)

one level to another through a fittingly tinted fall of golden water
(water being worth more than gold here on Mars): Alph, the sacred
river, rushing softly down to its sunless seaтАФin the depths of the
XanaduтАЩs casino levels in the Caves of Ice.
One of the young studs at the information counter came up to
me, looking bored, tugging at his velvet bolero. тАЬHelp you, sir?тАЭ
тАЬEthan Ring. Someone was asking for me?тАЭ I tugged at my
knee-length, wine-red velvet jacket, doing my best to match him
ennui for ennui.
тАЬIтАЩll check, sir.тАЭ No contest. He drifted away, and I turned to look
out across the lobby, in case anyone seemed to be looking for me.
No one did, as far as I could tell. The murmur of conversation
flowed into the muted intricacies of chamber music by Bach, played
by a live string quartet in the corner of the roomтАФtasteful, if not
entirely appropriate. Most of the wandering guests looked as
self-consciously gaudy and overdressed as I did.
Beyond them the wall was a curving window, taking full
advantage of the view, which is spectacular. The Xanadu is located
on the choicest piece of real estate on all MarsтАФmidway up the
slope of Mt. Olympus. The hotel itself, which stretches twenty-five
storeys up the side of the slope, is a parabolic hyperboloid (a form
which reminded Yarrow of an apple core), so that every floor has an
equal share of the viewтАФof the endless subtle variations of russet
and red and orange across the Martian plain; and the glassy, brassy
sprawl of the free-port city that surrounds Elysian Field, and
spreads up to the steep cliff-face at the volcanoтАЩs foot.
тАЬMr. Ring!тАЭ The stud was back at last. тАЬAre you the one who won
fifty thousand seeyas last night?тАЭ
 I looked at him. Fifty thousand International Credit UnitsтАж my
God, that was almost three hundred thousand dollars! тАЬUh, yes, I
suppose I am.тАЭ Total disbelief is a good substitute for total
disinterest, even on YarrowтАЩs open, flexible face.
The stud looked at me with an expression that might have been
awe, or might have been envy, but that at least was not boredom.
тАЬOh. YourтАж ah, your party is waiting in the Peacock Lounge, sir.тАЭ
тАЬThanks.тАЭ So my visitors were having a hair of the dog that had
bitten me, while they waitedтАж I crossed the lobby to the lounge. I
paused inside the entrance, checking out the afternoonтАЩs clientele,
with no idea at all of who I was looking for. But then I saw her,
sitting alone in a booth by the curving window and smiling at me;
and I knew that if she wasnтАЩt the one I was looking for, then
whoever it was could go to hell.
I went down the single step past the scrolled railing, and started
across the vividly blue Persian carpetтАФ seeing it all with a
heightened awareness, as if this was the first and last moment of
my life. But most of all, seeing her: The cascade of raven hair that
lay across her shoulder like nightтАЩs cloak, the dark, elvish eyes; the
sea-green dress that bared one shoulder and draped the other like a
wave, trailing crystal beads like a foaming crest from wrist to
hemline. Last night in the casino, in the eerie black-light