"part2" - читать интересную книгу автора (Keith Brooke - Lord of Stone) "What are they shooting at?" asked Bligh.
"Who can know?" said the newspaper vendor, casually drawing a section of sugar gum out of his coat pocket and sliding it into his mouth. "See the damaged building across there?" Where the man gestured there was what looked like a shop with boards across the windows and rubble heaped about it defensively. "That was once a Syndicalist hall. They still use it sometimes. Maybe there are Army snipers shooting at them. Or maybe the Syndicalists are just trying to keep us on our toes, who can know? Maybe someone doesn't like The Voice - you want one?" He thrust a copy of the news-sheet of the Unification Party of the People at Madeleine. Bligh reached into his pocket for some coins. "No," said the man, stopping him. "It is free, to a Friend of the Revolution." It was now several minutes since there had been any shots. The queue at the bakery had reformed and a man was chasing the horse and wagon along the street. Bligh and Madeleine said their goodbyes to the news-sheet distributor and continued on their way. This time, in unspoken agreement, they stayed closer to the shelter of the buildings. They had come to Anasty on impulse, perhaps the same impulse that had brought Bligh wandering down into war-torn Trace the the longest time he had lingered in one place since walking out of school, six years earlier - but finally one morning, as Madeleine sat astride his prostrate body, rubbing his tight shoulders, she had asked him what was wrong. He tried to explain his need to keep moving, to assure her that it was not her fault, that it was a part of the fabric of his being. "Then lets go somewhere," she had said simply. "We could go to Anasty. You must see it before it's all blown down." Walking through the battle-torn streets, still shaky from the sniper shots, Bligh hoped that they had arrived in time. They stood on a crowded tram, hanging on to a broken handrail. The tram had been hastily repainted in United Road Haulage colours, the old state livery still showing in places through the two tones of red. Dribbles of paint ran down the few unbroken windows and UPP news-sheets had been plastered across the ceiling and the backs of the seats. Madeleine rested her head on Bligh's shoulder so that he could feel her breath on his neck. They disembarked at a place called Settlement Square. Here, the cobbled street branched to form the perimeter of a paved rectangle containing two ornate fountains and a statue of a mounted king which had been hauled down and partly |
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