"Alex Irvine - Intimations of Immortality" - читать интересную книгу автора (Irvine Alexander C)

thought. The boy coming back to claim his birthright.

"There's a world up here, and a world down there," Norman said. "We're going back down there, but
you have to take this world with you when you go. Cycles, Sasha. That's a world that's lost track of its
cycles." Sasha nodded, his eyes still on the line of cars.

"You know why I did this, don't you, son?" Norman wished he hadn't said it. They'd been over this a
million times. But a man had to make sure his son knew . . . what? Why he'd had to pretend he was just
out backpacking on the few occasions they'd met other people in the Rocky Mountain wilderness? Why
he'd seen his father stab a man to death when he was six years old? Why he'd never been able to play on
a soccer team, take a vacation to California or the Moon, date girls?

Norman forced himself to calm down. Never mind what Sasha's thinking, he thought. You'd better take
care that you don't have a heart attack when you walk down into Georgetown.

But that was ridiculous. He was forty-three years old, and in better physical shape than most Olympic
athletes half his age. What Norman Campbell had to worry about was his mind. In sixteen years of living
in the wilderness, he'd developed an aversion to civilization so profound that to call it pathological would
be charitable. Even now, before he'd spoken to a soul or set foot on concrete, it was all he could do not
to turn around and disappear.

"I know why you say you did it," Sasha said.

Norman sat next to him. "Sounds like there's more you have to say," he said, and was suddenly afraid.

4

"I was wondering when you'd come over to say hi," the brunette said. "Do you always ignore women
who buy you drinks?"

"Well, I was kind of on a streak there," Norm said.

"Mm," she said, the beginnings of a smile in her eyes. This is a woman who likes to play games, Norm
thought. "Superstitious?"

"It's pool," Norm said. "You get it going, you don't want to do anything to screw it up. Thanks for the
beers." She'd bought him three.

"You're welcome." The brunette put her chin in her hands and looked up at him. "What's your name, pool
shooter?"

"Norm. What's yours?"

"Melinda. And these are Licia, Quincy, and Michelle."

"My pleasure." Norm raised his beer to them and finished it off by way of a toast.

"Are you going to invite your friends over?"

Norm considered. "Well, I could, but Matt there has a problem with rich girls on the T."