"Gene Wolfe - Green Glass" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wolfe Gene)

"Later, maybe." He stood. "I'm a pretty good liar, but I hate it when people
think I'm lying and I'm really telling them the truth. Let's go into these tunnels or
whatever they are."
"Passageways. I've been in them, and there's nothing in there."
"I was in there." He touched his chest.
"Really?"
"Sure. I came out of there, and you were sitting there so pretty, and I sat
down to look at you."
She smiled. "Want to give me a hand up?"
"Happy to." He did, finding her hand small but stronger than he expected.
"Which one did you come out of, Joey?"
"I..." The room in which she had sat was ringed by the mouths of passages,
all green and twilit, each promising neither more nor less than nothing. "That one, I
think. Or else that one next to it."
"I don't think we ought to split up."
"Neither do I. It's just the other way, if you ask me. We've got to stay
together, no matter what happens."
"Want to pick?"
He shook his head. "You do it, Josephine."
"All right, this one. You go first."
The floor was smooth without being slick. We could dance in here, he
thought. Hip hop, or whatever she wants to do. Ballroom even, if that's what she
would like. Only there's no music.
A voice behind him said, "Hello, you two."
He turned, looking over Josephine's shoulder.
"Fields is my name." The speaker wore an old-fashioned tuxedo. "Shep
Fields and His Rippling Rhythm. Ever hear us? We used to be big."
"We don't need a band," Josephine said. "We need to get out of here--to get
off this flying saucer or whatever it is and get back home."
From somewhere behind Shep Fields, a swing band struck up "Vaya Con
Dios."
"Let's go!" With an emphatic gesture, Josephine urged Joey forward. "He
can't help us. Or he won't."
Shep did not follow them, but his music did. "It will be over soon," Josephine
said.
Joey nodded, wanting to hum under his breath. "Who was that? Was he
someone you used to know?"
"You didn't recognize him?"
Joey shook his head.
 "One of mine then. Did he tell you who he was? He told me. Do you
remember the name?"
"Shep Fields?" Momentarily, Joey stopped to search his memory. "He said
something about rippling rhythm."
"That's good. We heard the same thing. How was he dressed?"
"Old fashioned. Formal. A--a tux. Is that what they called them? Only the
coat was white."
"Right. A dinner jacket. So we saw the same thing, too. I took a class in
college, American Musical History. There was a tape with interviews of some
old-time band leaders, and one of them was Shep Fields. He was dressed like that.
They pulled him out of my mind."