"Timothy Zahn - Night Train to Rigel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zahn Timothy)

engine that had apparently pushed us here.
"Mr. Compton?"
I turned back. The Girl had reached the building and was standing expectantly
beside the door. "Right," I said, forcing my feet to move. She waited until I
caught up with her, and together we went inside.
Beyond the door was a small room as drably functional as the building's
exterior, its furnishings consisting entirely of three chairs set in a
triangle arrangement facing each other.
One of the seats was already occupied by an amazingly fat middle-aged man
dressed in shades of blue and sporting a contrasting skullcap of gray hair.
Standing behind him was a
Spider midway in size between a conductor and a drudge. A stationmaster,
possibly, though this one seemed slightly bigger and didn't carry the usual
identifying pattern of white dots across its sphere. '
"Good day, Mr. Compton," the man greeted me gravely. His voice carried an
oddly bubbling quality, as if he were talking half underwater. "My name is
Hermod. Please, sit down."
"Thank you," I said, stepping forward and settling into " one of the
two remaining chairs as The Girl took the third. "Do I get to know where I
am?"
"You're in a maintenance and storage facility off the main Tube," he said.
"Its actual location is not important."
"I thought all maintenance work was done in the stations themselves."
Hermod's massive shoulders shrugged slightly. "Most of it is," he said. "The
Spiders don't advertise the existence of these other facilities."

"Well, this should certainly make up for that," I pointed out. "Or don't you
think New Tigris is going to wonder when their incoming Quadrail comes up two
cars short?"
"Give the Spiders a little more credit than that," Hermod said dryly. "They
would hardly have gone to all this trouble to speak privately with you and
then let something so obvious ruin it. No, you'll be rejoining the rest of the
train well before it reaches New Tigris."
"Ah," I said, making a conscious effort to sit back in my chair as if I were
feeling all relaxed, which I definitely was not. So not only did me Spiders
want a chat, they wanted a very private chat. This just got better and better.
"So what's this all about?"
"The Spiders have a problem," Hermod said gravely. "One which may well
determine the future of the entire galaxy. They thought you might be able to
help them with it."
"What makes you think that?" I asked, feeling sweat popping out all over my
body.
"You're a well-trained observer, investigator, and analyst," he said. 'Trained
by one of the best, in fact: Western Alliance Intelligence."
"Who sacked me over a year ago," I reminded him, passing over for the moment
the question of whether Westali really was one of the best
"But not for lack of ability," Hermod reminded me right back. "Merely for what
did they call it? Professional indiscretion?"
"Something like that," I agreed evenly. That was what the dismissal papers had
called it, anyway. Professional indiscretion, like I'd been caught stealing