"Walter Jon Williams - Aristoi" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Walter John)

As of tomorrow, Akwasibo would be made an Ariste herself.

Her lanky body was clothed in a dress of diamond-shaped mirrors. Invisible spotlights seemed to
bounce off the reflective surfaces, casting gold reflections on the walls. Her Ethiopian eyes were
rimmed with kohl; her long neck was as supple as that of Nefertiti (and scarcely exaggerated at
all, as Gabriel remembered). There was another diamond-shaped mirror set flat in her forehead, and
two more dangled from her ears.

"Greetings, Gabriel Aristos." Assuming a Posture of Formal Regard.

Gabriel raised a hand. "Hail, newly immortal."

She smiled. Gabriel embraced her and kissed her hello. Her dream-breath smelled of oranges, and
her dream-lips seemed to vibrate slightly, a not unpleasant effect.

"Are you on your way to the reception?" Gabriel asked.

"Point of fact, I was on my way to see you. The city's reno told me you'd arrived and I came right
over."

Gabriel lifted an eyebrow. "Is your business that ur-gent?"

"Depends on your definition of urgent. We can walk to the reception if you like."



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"Take my arm."

"A pleasure."

They strolled up the corridor. The wall frescoes were a translucent sea blue, and dolphins, gold
and white and deep azure, frolicked thereon. The warm Persian wind brought the fresh scent of
cypress. It was autumn here, and somehow-that sense had been translated into the oneirochronon.
Good programmers, here.

Pan Wengong employed only the best.

"I wanted simply to thank you," Akwasibo said. "I think you were the Aristos who taught me the
most."

"I was dreadfully inexperienced. Under thirty, for heaven's sake, and I wasn't that much older
than you."

"You taught me while you were teaching yourself. Of course it took me over forty years before I
could really put it all in practice."

"But you'll make many fewer mistakes than I."