"Rhys Hughes - P Stars" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hughes Rhys)

The Percolated Stars

Rhys Hughes


an astro-caffeine romp
in three cups
featuring
Batavus Droogstoppel
merchant and scientist
and Bourgeois monster
one lump or two?


To Ray Russell
and in memory of
John Sladek
one of the finest science-fiction writers
who ever lived


"I have measured out my life with coffee spoons"
T.S. ELIOT


"The butterfly knows nothing about the death of the tailors,
about wardrobes conquering the sea.
Sirs, my age is 900,000 years...

...You, moon, moon...
smoky moon of firemen,
do not be frightened...

Wind, I invite you to rest.
It is too late to dine on stars."
RAFAEL ALBERTI


Ultima Thule
I was travelling through the gorges of Montenegro on business. I wore my telescope at my hip, like a sword, and no
brigands dared accost me. They remained at a safe distance, peering from behind fallen trees or tumbled boulders. In
the generous pockets of my greatcoat, I carried two antique flintlocks — not for the sake of romanticism, but because
the people of the forest are more afeared of sparks and the stench of sulphur than the cleaner detonations of our
modern revolvers. Or so I had been instructed in Belgrade. My horse was a Lipizzaner from Jakovo, a sturdy mount
which had served me well over the dangerous passes of the Tara Canyon. Another day and I would reach my
destination.
Now the wars with the Turks and Albanians were finished, a terrible silence covered the land. Peace was a stranger
to these gloomy hills and the villages and abbeys hidden among their folds. It fitted poorly, like a shrunken shroud. I
almost longed to hear the strum of crossbows beyond the valley, a melody refined in these regions to a high art. But
bandits were still unforthcoming, preferring to watch and wait. I did not resent my solitude too much in this respect,