"Mack Reynolds - Tomorrow Might Be Different" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

able to live well. But as production developed the competition to rise above everyone else slackened off.
Finally, for decades now, there is an abundance of everything, so we no longer need fight among
ourselves."

Manola Segura's peones were running the bull, dragging their capes behind them, letting the animal chase
them to the burladero shelters. Their matador watched warily, noting how el toro hooked, learning his
characteristics. This was crucial, it was necessary that he learn everything possible about his opponent.

Mike Edwards had to tear his eyes away from the girl. It was a more sensible answer than he had
expected after she had pulled that old wheeze about lynching.

Manola Segura came out now and went through a series of half a dozen veronicas with the bull. Very
passable veronicas they were too; a Segura specialty. From the few Spaniards in the tendidos came a
scattering of oles. The Russkies weren't particularly impressed.

Catherina said, "Why do they cheer?"

Mike said, "Well, he did that very gracefully and allowed the bull's horns to come very close."

The bugle sounded and Manola Segura retreated as the picadores emerged for the second act of the
production, the Tercio de Varas.

"Those bulls are not so very large," Nick Galushko complained after taking a healthy swig from his
champagne bottle. He was seated directly behind Mike and Catherina.

Mike said agreeably, "Well, they aren't as big as they used to be in the old days, so I am told, but I still
wouldn't want to be down there."

Catherina said, "Very uncultured."

Somebody above them passed down a half empty but still chill bottle of champagne. Catherina took a
short swallow, passed the bottle to Mike and returned her attention to the fray below. Mike didn't
particularly want it but he took the opportunity to make a bond between them even though it was as small
as a shared drink. What in the world was getting into him with this Russkie wench? He felt like a lovelorn
highschool boy.

The Spanish were yelling, "Ole, ole!" Manola Segura had performed a particularly well done quite,
rescuing one of the picadores and his horse from the charging bull.

The bugle sounded again and the fight entered the Tercio de banderillas. In his youth Manola Segura had
often placed his own, but today he sent out his peones for the job.

He did his best work in the Tercio de Muerte. No one in Spain was better with the muleta and sword
than old
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Manola Segura and he knew it. He went through a veritable tour de force in his faena winding up with