"O'Donnell, Peter - Modesty Blaise 03 - I, Lucifer" - читать интересную книгу автора (O'Donnell Peter)

Bowker thought for a moment. 'Before. The killing is bound to create tensions, and he's more accurate when he's relaxed.'
'Should we attend to Larsen ourselves, perhaps?'
'No.' Bowker was on his own ground now, and he spoke positively. 'It's quite a while since the last demonstration, and Larsen provides a good opportunity.'
'Very well.' Seff looked out of the window. A tanned figure in red swim-trunks lay relaxed on the terrace, basking in the hot sun. 'Perhaps you will respectfully ask our young friend if it will please him to attend upon us now, Dr. Bowker.'

In a big upper room of the house Jack Wish flopped into an armchair and stretched out his thick bare legs.
'This stuff slays me,' he said.
'Do not let that fact be manifest, Mr. Wish, or your words may prove prophetic,' Seff answered. He was opening a metal filing cabinet. The shutters were closed and the blinds lowered. A fluorescent strip lit the room.
Jack Wish stared, puzzled, and said, 'Come again, Seff?'
'I mean do not let our young friend see your amusement.' Seff lifted his head and his lips drew back in a smile which revealed a set of very white but slightly ill-fitting false teeth. 'Or you may not live very long.'
Jack Wish stirred uneasily. He had given up wondering why Seff could sometimes make him afraid. 'Hell, you don't have to worry,' he growled sulkily. 'I know the score.'
Seff did not trouble to reply. He was busy setting out a row of long card-index drawers on the table, each containing four or five hundred sealed and numbered envelopes.
The door opened and Bowker stood aside for a man to precede him into the room. The man was bronzed by sun, tall, superbly built and with an unblemished skin. He wore red swim-trunks and monk sandals. The body was that of an athlete in perfect condition. The face was young, unlined, and slightly rounded, with very bright blue eyes. The hair was short and black, a cap of tight curls. There was about him a strange air of innocence—strange, because behind it one could sense the steel of absolute authority.
Seff bowed slightly, his body creaking.
'Lucifer,' he said. 'I hope we have not distracted you from important matters?'
'No.' The voice was strong yet mellow. 'I have been talking to Pluto and Belial.'
'Faithful servants,' Seff acknowledged deferentially. 'I regret placing any burden of work upon you, Lucifer, but in the special grades of humanity it is for you alone to decide who shall die.'
'Die?' There was disapproval in Lucifer's repetition of the word. Bowker felt quick delight that Seff had slipped for once, and moved smoothly in to repair the error.
'We mean transference to the lower levels of your kingdom,' he said, smiling. 'But since the world calls it dying, we sometimes use the term ourselves, Lucifer. You have always insisted that our operations for you must be on a mundane level, and so we school ourselves to think in mundane terms.'
'Of course.' Lucifer turned upon Bowker a sweet sad smile, then looked again at Seff. 'You have no need to be troubled at laying the burden upon me. There was a time long ago, before I called you from the lower levels and gathered you about me, when the whole task was mine alone ... to take millions of decisions each day.'
'Your subjects increase by millions each day now, Lucifer,' Seff said politely. 'It is our honour that you can now delegate all but the most important decisions to us.'
Lucifer inclined his head graciously, then moved to the table where the long card-index drawers were laid out. His eyes went blank and he rested one powerful hand gently on the stacked envelopes in the first drawer. Moving the hand very slowly, he began to riffle through the stack, letting his fingertips rest for a few seconds on each envelope in turn. After a little while he paused, drew out an envelope and dropped it on the table.
Jack Wish sat watching as a child might watch a conjuring trick. It was a long time before another envelope was selected and withdrawn. Seff paced slowly, creaking. He did not glance at Lucifer until the first full drawer had been dealt with and three envelopes selected. Then he nodded to Jack Wish, who got up and restored the drawer to its cabinet.
Lucifer began to work on the envelopes in the second drawer. Bowker watched, hiding his anxiety. There were moments of relief when Lucifer selected without hesitation, and moments of sharp tension when his hand rested long and uncertainly before drawing out an envelope. From two of the drawers Lucifer made no selection at all.
An hour passed before the last drawer of envelopes had been dealt with, and no word was spoken during that time. From just over three thousand envelopes, seventeen had been selected.
Lucifer stepped away from the table, and his eyes slowly focused on his surroundings as Jack Wish put away the last of the drawers. Again the sad gentle smile touched Lucifer's youthful face as he looked at the small stack of envelopes left on the table.
'There. You have my decisions, Seff.'
'Thank you.' Seff interlaced his fingers and cracked the joints. 'There is one further matter for your attention, if you would be so good...?'
'Yes?'
'The time is due for one of your lesser servants to return to the lower levels. He would be greatly honoured if you would dispatch him personally.'
A slight frown touched Lucifer's brow, and Seff's tinny voice went on quickly. 'As our friend Dr. Bowker—to use his worldly name—has pointed out, you prefer always to perform your operations within the natural flow of events. But for a good servant we hoped you might perhaps make an exception ... as you have done before.'
Lucifer smiled reminiscently. 'I dislike being more obtrusive than my celestial colleague. There was a time when we both used our powers more openly, but he has long ceased such activities as dividing the waters and causing the sun to stop in its path. I have chosen to follow suit.'
'There is strong evidence,' Bowker said thoughtfully, 'that he still, on occasion, operates beyond the laws of nature in a minor way, for the benefit of an individual.'
'True.' Lucifer folded brown arms across his chest and considered. 'Very well,' he said at last. 'The favour is granted.'
Jack Wish went out of the room. Lucifer stood like a statue, eyes distant, and Bowker wondered for the hundredth time in what strange reaches the mind behind those eyes was floating.
Seff had stopped pacing and stood with one hand in the pocket of his black jacket. Bowker felt his stomach tighten a little at what was to come.
Three minutes passed before the door opened and Jack Wish entered, lightly holding the arm of a fair young man in slacks and a dark green shirt. This was Larsen. Bowker remembered him now. He moved slowly, obediently, without resistance. His arms hung limply by his sides and he seemed unaware of his surroundings. The pupils of his eyes were abnormally contracted by the injection of chloral hydrate which had numbed his brain.
Lucifer lifted his smooth, handsome face with the cap of black hair. 'Your greater colleagues have petitioned me on your behalf, Larsen,' he said quietly.
The man looked back at him, dull-eyed.
'He is over-awed in your presence, Lucifer,' Bowker murmured. 'This one is a very small creature in your kingdom, no more than an incubus, fleshed by you for a few brief centuries. But he has served you well.'
Lucifer nodded gravely and lifted a hand, the index finger pointing directly at Larsen's chest across the width of the room.
'I release you to the lower levels, small one,' he said in a deep voice. 'Join your brethren in darkness. Be free of the flesh now.'
With the last word a small circle of fierce white heat appeared in the centre of Larsen's chest, as if a burning-glass of unimaginable power had suddenly been focused there by Lucifer's pointing finger. Larsen jerked and started to cry out. The flash of fire vanished, leaving a charred circle in the material of the shirt. Larsen choked as if his throat had suddenly closed. He twitched violently, then toppled to the floor and lay still.
Lucifer lowered his hand.
Seff said, 'May I thank you for him? It was a great honour.'
'The Prince of Darkness has a duty to the least of his servants,' Lucifer said with quiet dignity. 'One day, Seff, in eons yet to come, I may do the same for you, the greatest of my servants. And then, once again, you will be free to roam the lower levels as your true self. As Asmodeus.'
He moved to the door, the perfect muscles rippling smoothly beneath the golden skin. Pausing, he smiled at Bowker, inclined his head fractionally towards Jack Wish, and went out.

Jack Wish looked down at the body and scratched his jaw, puzzled. 'Who's this As-something he said about, Seff?'
'Asmodeus. A very powerful demon in Lucifer's hierarchy,' Seff answered. 'Mentioned in the Apocrypha. In the third chapter of the Book of Tobit, I believe.'