"Roger Zelazny - Amber Chronicles, The 06 - Trumps of Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

"Here," he said, halting. "She borrowed a few of these, brought them
back, borrowed a few more."
I shrugged.
"That's all? That's hardly weird."
"But she really got into it."
"So do a lot of people."
"Let me finish," he went on. "She started with theosophy, even attended
meetings of a local group. She got turned off on it fairly quick, but by
then she'd met some people with different connections. Pretty soon she was
hanging around with Sufis, Gurdjieffians, even a shaman."
"Interesting," I said. "No yoga?"
"No yoga. When I asked her that same thing she said that it was power
she was after, not samadhi. Anyhow, she just kept fording stranger and
stranger acquaintances. The atmosphere got too rarefied for me, so I said
good-bye."
"I wonder why?" I mused.
"Here," he said, "take a look at this one."
He tossed me a black book and stepped back. I caught it. It was a copy
of the Bible. I opened it to the publishing credits page.
"Something special about this edition?" I asked.
He sighed.
"No. I'm sorry."
He took it back and replaced it on the shelf.
"Just a minute," he said.
He returned to the counter and took a cardboard sign from a shelf
beneath it. It read JUST STEPPED OUT: WE'LL REOPEN AT and there was a clock
face beneath it with movable hands. He set them to indicate a time a half
hour hence and went and hung the sign in the door's window. Then he shot the
bolt and gestured for me to follow him to a room in the rear.
The back office contained a desk, a couple of chairs, cartons of books.
He seated himself behind the desk and nodded toward the nearest chair. I
took it. He switched on a telephone answering machine then, removed a stack
of forms and correspondence from the blotter, opened a drawer and took out a
bottle of Chianti.
"Care for a glass?" he asked.
"Sure, thanks."
He rose and stepped through the opened door of a small lavatory. He
took a pair of glasses from a shelf and rinsed them. He brought them back,
set them down, filled both, and. pushed one in my direction. They were from
the Sheraton.
"Sorry I tossed the Bible at you," he said, raising his glass and
taking a sip.
"You looked as if you expected one to go up in a puff of smoke."
He nodded.
"I am really convinced that the reason she wants power has something to
do with you. Are you into some form of occultism?"
"No."
"She talked sometimes as if you might even be a supernatural creature
yourself."
I laughed.