"A. E. Van Vogt - Slan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Van Vogt A E)

His little boy's face with its recently acquired 'I'm-a-tough-guy' expression, and his lips
twisted into a sneer, made her wonder again what had happened to him. But in the days
when they had carried on a wary friendship, she had told him she would never read his mind
without his permission. And she still felt bound by the promise though he had changed
meanwhile to -- this! What he was now she didn't really want to see. The others she had
always ignored.
It was a long time, months and months, and to an extent years, since she had cut herself
off from mental contact with the stream of human thoughts, human hopes and human hates
that made a hell of the palace atmosphere. Better to scorn him, also. She turned her back
on him. She had barely done so when there was his jangling voice again:
'Ya-a-ah, the last time! I said it, and I mean it Tomorrow's your eleventh birthday, isn't
it?'
Kathleen made no answer, pretending she hadn't heard. But a sense of disaster pierced
her unconcern. There was too much gloating in his voice, too much certainty. Was it possible
that dreadful things had been going on, dreadful plans made, during these months that she
had kept her mind insulated from the thoughts of these people? Was it possible she had
made a mistake in locking herself away in a world of her own? And now the real world had
smashed through her protective armor?
Davy Dinsmore snapped: 'Think you're smart, don't you? Well, you won't feel so smart
when they're killing you tomorrow. Maybe you don't know it yet, but Mamma says the word
is going around the palace now that when they first brought you here, Mr. Kier Gray had to
promise the cabinet that he'd have you killed on your eleventh birthday. And don't think
they won't do it, either. They killed a slan woman in the street the other day. That shows!
What do you think of that, smarty?'
'You're -- crazy!' The words were forced from her lips. She hardly realized she had
uttered them, because they weren't what she thought. Somehow, she did not doubt that he
spoke the truth. It fitted in with their mass hatred. It was so logical that she seemed,
suddenly, always to have known it.
Oddly enough, it was the mention of his mother having told Davy that held Kathleen's
mind. It took her memory back three years to a day when this boy had attacked her under
the benevolent eyes of his mother, thinking to bully a small girl. What a surprise, what a
screaming and kicking with fear there had been as she held him aloft, until his outraged
parent had rushed forward, uttering threats of what she was going to do to 'a dirty,
sneaking little slan.'
And men, suddenly, there had been Kier Gray, grim and tall and powerful, and Mrs.
Dinsmore cringing before him.
'Madame, I wouldn't lay a hand on that child if I were you. Kathleen Layton is a property
of the State, and in due course the State will dispose of her. As for your son, I happened to
observe the entire proceedings. He got exactly what every bully deserves, and I hope he has
learned his lesson.'
Surprisingly, it was the day after she had beat him up that Davy had sought her out, and
made friendly advances. That was nearly three years ago. Ever since he had been her only
youthful ally -- until he had turned on her so abruptly two months before.
With a start, she emerged from her bitter reverie and saw that in the city below a change
had taken place. The whole great mass had donned its nighttime splendor with a billion
lights twinkling in far-flung panorama. Wonder city now, it spread before her, a vast,
sparkling jewel, an incredible fairyland of buildings that reared grandly toward the heavens
and blazed a dream picture of refulgent magnificence. How she had always longed to go into
that mysterious city and see for herself all the delights her imagination had built up. Now, of
course, she would never see it. An entire world of glory would remain unseen, untasted,