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

"You ever meet her?"

"Yeah."

"How long ago?"

"Four, five years."




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"She was a kid then. How do you know what she can do now?"

"I know. She'll have learned every switch and reading by this time.
She'll be all up on theory. But do you remember one time we were together in
the starboard Rook, forward, when Ikky broke water like a porpoise?"

"Well?"

He rubbed his emery chin.

"Maybe she can do it, Carl. She's raced torch ships and she's scubaed
in bad waters back home." He glanced in the direction of invisible Hand.
"And she's hunted in the Highlands. She might be wild enough to pull that
horror into her lap without flinching.

"...For Johns Hopkins to foot the bill and shell out seven figures for
the corpus," he added. "That's money, even to a Luharich."

I ducked through a hatchway.

"Maybe you're right, but she was a rich witch when I knew her.

"And she wasn't blonde," I added, meanly.

He yawned.

"Let's find breakfast."

We did that.

When I was young I thought that being born a sea creature was the
finest choice Nature could make for anyone. I grew up on the Pacific coast
and spent my summers on the Gulf or the Mediterranean. I lived months of my
life negotiating with coral, photographing trench dwellers, and playing tag
with dolphins. I fished everywhere there are fish, resenting the fact that
they can go places I can't. When I grew older I wanted a bigger fish, and