"Ron Goulart - The Wicked Cyborg" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goulart Ron)

overgrown lawn. "I hate to see you mope your youth away, Tad," he
said. "Are we not told, for instance, in St. Reptillicus' 14th Epistle
of the Milmans, 'Youth is like the bag the ice cubes come in'?"
Tad frowned. "I don't think I quite understand that one, reverend."
"Well, it's possible St. Reptillicus' well-known fondness for sending
out for liquor colored some of his later epistles," the lizard priest
admitted. "The point is, you must cheer up, enjoy yourself."
"Little tough to do that hereabouts."
Reverend Dimchurch, drumming his green fingertips on the edge of
his cart, glanced around. He saw mostly fog. "A dismal setting,
agreed. Once, though, good times were often had here. For as St.
Reptillicus tells us, 'The swizzle stick oft . . .' Well, we'll skip that.
The point is, Foghill was once a much happier place."
"Did you know the people who used to live here—my other cousins,
I mean?" Tad had been able to learn this much, that two other
members of the Rhymer family had resided at the place as recently
as six years ago. Then they'd died, in some sort of accident. Another
accident, and two more deaths, at the same time his father had died.
"Yes, I knew Cosmo and Alice quite well," replied Reverend

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Ron Goulart - The Wicked Cyborg


Dimchurch. "Hadn't I mentioned that before? I suppose not, since
my business calls on your Mr. Hohl tend to distract me
considerably."
Tad stepped nearer the robotcart. "What exactly is you business
with Hohl?"
The purple muffler was lifted up to wipe at the green lips. "Ah, my
boy, you have youth's knack for asking direct questions," he
mumbled. "Well, may St. Serpentine bless and forgive me, but I
must defer the explanation to a later date."
"Okay, but tell me about Mr. and Mrs. Rhymer, Cosmo and Alice."
"Very likeable people, very cordial." The lizard man's tongue
unrolled out between his teeth as he smiled. "And that all-purpose
robot servant of theirs . . . a delightful fellow, albeit somewhat
arrogant and prideful. He wasn't on the market, not a real Rhymer
Industries product, but rather a one-of-a-kind mechanism which
your Cousin Cosmo built himself right here at Foghill."
"What do you mean here? There's not a lab or a workshop here,"
said Tad, glancing around at the shrouding fog. "I know because I'd
love to have someplace to tinker and fool around in. I asked Hohl
and he told me there weren't any."
Dimchurch said, "There most certainly was a very well-equipped
workshop. Many's the afternoon I spent there watching your late
cousin at work and debating with him the dubious details of some of
St. Reptillicus' more suspect miracles."
Tad jumped forward, caught the lizard priest's arm. "Where was the
workshop?"