"James Patrick Kelly - The Edge of Nowhere" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kelly James Patrick)

grotesque parody of a smile.

"Willy Werther, but everyone calls me Will."

"I see you are supplied with pencil and paper, young Will. Are you a writer?"

"Me? Oh, no. No." He feigned a yawn. "Well, sort of." For a moment, Rain was certain that he was
going to blurt out that he was the author of The Last President. She wasn't sure why she thought that
would be a bad idea, but she did. "I ... uh ...." Now that Will had Baskerville's attention, he didn't seem
to know what to do with it. "I've been trying to remember jokes for Eddie to tell at church," he said.
"Want to hear one?" Fast Eddie and Mrs. Snopes glanced up from their cookie deliberations. "Okay
then, how do you keep your dog from digging in the garden?"

"I don't know, Will." Rain just wanted him to shut up. "How?"

"Take away his shovel." Will looked from Baskerville to Rain and then to Fast Eddie. "No?"

"No." Eddie, who had just become a deacon in the Temple of the Eternal Smile, shook his head. "God
likes Her jokes to be funny."

"Funny." Will nodded. "Got it. So what's this book about anyway, Mr. B?"

"Will, I just don't know," said the bloodhound. "That's why I'd like to read it." Baskerville turned and
yipped over his shoulder. Rover trotted to him and the bloodhound dropped onto all fours. Rain couldn't
see what passed between them because the desk blocked her view but when Baskerville heaved himself
upright again he was holding a brass dog whistle in his paw. He dropped it, clattering, on the desktop in
front of Rain.

"When you find the book, Rain," said Baskerville, "give us a call."

Rain didn't like it that Baskerville just assumed that she would take on the search. "Wait a minute," she
said. "Why do you need me to look for it? You're part of the cognisphere, right? You already know
everything."

"We have access to everything," said Baskerville. "Retrieval is another matter." He growled at Spot. The
shop bell tinkled as he opened the door. "I look forward to hearing from you, Rain. Will, it was a
pleasure to meet you." The bloodhound nodded at Fast Eddie and Mrs. Snopes, but they paid him no
attention. Their heads were bent over the tray of crumbs. Baskerville left the shop, claws clicking against
the gray linoleum. The terriers followed him out.

"Nice dogs." Will affected an unconcerned saunter as he crossed the room, although he flew the last few
steps. "My book, Rain!" he whispered, his voice thick. With what? Fear? Pride?

"Is it?" Rain had yet to read a word of The Great American Novel; Will claimed it was too rough to
show. Although she could imagine that this might be true, she couldn't help but resent being shut out. She
offered him the whistle. "So call them."

"What are you saying?" He shrank back, as if mere proximity to the whistle might shrivel his soul.
"They're from ..." He pointed through the window toward the precipitous edge of the mesa on which
Nowhere perched. "... out there."