"Robert F. Young - L'Arc de Jeanne" - читать интересную книгу автора (Young Robert F)

made the necessary changes in the rules to permit two people to play. Three, if you counted St. Hermann
O'Shaughnessy, for he was an indispensable part of many of them. In addition to the games, there were
picnics in idyllic clearings and long and leisurely walks back into the wooded hills. Morning was invariably
at seven and the hillsides were just as invariably dew-pearled; and in Jeanne Marie's heaven, at least, all
was right with the world.
 Evenings, they spent sitting at the base of the vine curtain that covered the cave-house mouth, looking
at the stars and commenting now and then on the various happenings of the day. Some of the stars they
looked at were planetsтАФCiel Bleu had eleven sistersтАФand some of them were the ships of O'Riordan's
fleet. The latter were easily distinguishable from the others, not only because of their perceptible
movement but because they followed a perfect equatorial path. They looked like an attenuated diamond
necklace held together by an invisible string. The flagship was the pendant, and was distinguishable from
the other diamonds by its size and its orange hue. It reminded D'Arcy of a moon sometimes, and in a way
it was a moonтАФan artificial moon with a man in it who wanted to conquer the cosmos.
Jeanne Marie would look at the flagship again and again from the moment it rose in the northeast to
the moment it set in the northwest. But when he commented on her interest she said that it wasn't she
who was interested but Joseph and Rachel. "They see and hear through me," she explained. "So
whenever they are interested in something, I let them look or listen to their hearts' content."
He gazed into her eyes, searching them for some sign of guile, but he saw nothing except tiny
starsтАФstars no less lovely than the ones that swam high above her head. It embarrassed him that he
himself had brought them into being. Yes, she was in love with him already, Jeanne Marie was. The
computer had been right. But ironically he felt nothing for her except a brotherly affection. It was better
that way, he supposedтАФit made what he had to do a lot easier.
Wherever she went, her bow and quiver of arrows went too. One day he asked her why they were
such an inseparable part of her, pointing out that she never tried to bring down any of the small game that
frequented the region, and she answered him, saying that Joseph and Rachel had instructed her to keep
them with her at all times, as they had many magic properties, any one of which would protect her from
harm.
D'Arcy had a sudden hunch. "Did Rachel and Joseph help you make the bow and the arrows?" he
asked.
She nodded reluctantly. "Yes."
He didn't for one minute believe her, but it was perfectly possible that she believed herself. "And the
cave house and the furniture?"
Another reluctant nod.
He grinned. "What would happen if I touched the bow?" he asked. "Would I turn into a
grasshopper?"
"Of course not," she laughed. "But if I shot an arrow at you, there's no telling what might become of
you. Not," she added hurriedly, "that I'd dream of doing such a thing."
One afternoon when they were walking in the woods, they became separated and D'Arcy was
unable to find her. Reasoning that she would probably head back to the cave, he set out in that direction.
But although he walked fast, he saw no sign of her. By the time he reached the cave, he was half
convinced that something had happened to her.
He went inside and called her name. No answer. Was she hiding on him, perhaps? Frequently she
did such things; indeed, hiding on each other was one of the games they played. He looked under the
sofa. He went out into the kitchen and peered behind the stove. He searched the utility room. Finally he
entered the bedroom and looked under her bed. There was nothing there except one of the pairs of
shoes she disdained to wear.
Straightening, he found himself staring at the door to her closet. He snapped his fingers. He'd bet any
money she was hiding behind it, concealed, probably, among multicolored dresses, blouses, and skirts.
Grinning, he seized the knob, intending to turn it quickly and throw the door wide open. But the knob
refused to turn. Looking at it closely, he saw that it was equipped with a fingerprint-lock and that the lock