"Ken MacLeod - Fall Revolution 04 - The Sky Road" - читать интересную книгу автора (MacLeod Ken)

les beneath her tan. A fine gold chain around her
neck suspended a rough mesh of gold wire contain-
ing a seer-stone the size of a pigeon's egg. It hung
between her breasts, its small world flickering ran-
domly in that gentle friction. An even thinner silver
chain implied some other ornament, but it hung
below where I could see. The dagger and derringer
and purse on her narrow waist-belt were each so el-
egant and delicate as to be almost nominal. There
was some powerful undertone to her scent, whether
natural or artificial I didn't know.
'Well, here you are,' she said, as though we'd ar-
ranged to meet at this very place. For a couple of
heartbeats I entertained the thought that this might
be true, that she was someone I really did know and
had unaccountably, unforgivably forgotten — but no,
I had no memory of ever having met her before. At
the same time I couldn't get rid of a conviction that
I already knew her, and always had.
'Hello,' I said, for want of anything less banal.
'What's your name?'
'Menial,' she said. 'And you are . .. ?'
'Clovis,' I said 'Clovis colha Gree.'
4 KEN MACLEOD
She nodded to herself, as though some datum
had been confirmed, and smiled at me.
'So, colha Gree, are you going to ask me for a
dance?'
I jumped to my feet, amazed. 'Yes, of course.
Would you do me the honour?'
'Thank you,' she said. She took my hand in a
warm, dry grasp and rose gracefully, merging that
movement with her first step. It was a fast dance to
a traditional air, 'The Tactical Boys'. Talking was
impossible, but we communicated a great deal none
the less. Another measure followed, and then a
slower dance.
We finished it a long way from where we'd started
- fetched up close to the outside tables of the big-
gest pub on the square, The Carronade. Some of
the lads from work were already at one of the tables,
with their local girls. My mates gave me odd looks,
compounded of envy and secret amusement; their
female partners were looking lasers at Menial, for
no reason I could fathom. She was attractive all
right, and looking more beautiful to my eyes with
every passing second, but the other girls were not
obviously less blessed; and she wasn't a harlot, unless
she was foolish (harlotry being a respected but reg-
ulated trade in that town, its plying not permitted