"Doors of His Face The Lamps of His Mouth, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

residents are primarily personnel maintained by several industrial
corporations engaged in basic research. Independent marine biologists,
wealthy fishing enthusiasts, and waterfront entrepreneurs make up the
remainder of its inhabitants."

I turned to Mike Dabis, a fellow entrepreneur, and commented on the
lousy state of basic research.

"Not if the mumbled truth be known."

He paused behind his glass before continuing the slow swallowing
process calculated to obtain my interest and a few oaths, before he
continued.

"Carl," he finally observed, poker playing, "they're shaping
Tensquare."

I could have hit him. I might have refilled his glass with sulfuric
acid and looked on with glee as his lips blackened and cracked. Instead, I
grunted a noncommittal.

"Who's fool enough to shell out fifty grand a day? ANR?"

He shook his head.

"Jean Luharich," he said, "the girl with the violet contacts and fifty
or sixty perfect teeth. I understand her eyes are really brown."

"Isn't she selling enough face cream these days?"

He shrugged.

"Publicity makes the wheels go 'round. Luharich Enterprise jumped
sixteen points when she picked up the Sun Trophy. You ever play golf on
Mercury?"

I had, but I overlooked it and continued to press.

"So she's coming here with a blank check and a fishhook?"

"_Bright Water_, today," he nodded. "Should be down by now. Lots of
cameras. She wants an Ikky, bad."

"Hmm," I hmmed. "How bad?"

"Sixty day contract. Tensquare. Indefinite extension clause. Million
and a half deposit," he recited.

"You seem to know a lot about it."