"Connie Willis - Even The Queen" - читать интересную книгу автора (Willis Connie)

"It doesn't hurt as much as not having one," Viola said, shooting me a Now-Do-You-See-What-My-
Sister's-Caused? look.
"Traci, why don't you sit across from Viola?" Mother said to me. "And we'll put Perdita next to you
when she comes."
"If she comes," Viola said.
"I told her one o'clock," Mother said, sitting down at the near end. "So we'd have a chance to plan our
strategy before she gets here. I talked to Carol Chen--"
"Her daughter nearly joined the Cyclists last year," I explained to Bysshe and Viola.
"She said they had a family gathering, like this, and simply talked to her daughter, and she decided she
didn't want to be a Cyclist after all." She looked around the table. "So I thought we'd do the same thing
with Perdita. I think we should start by explaining the significance of the Liberation and the days of
dark oppression that preceded it--"
"I think," Viola interrupted, "we should try to talk her into just going off the ammenerol for a few
months instead of having the shunt removed. If she comes. Which she won't."
"Why not?"
"Would you? I mean, it's like the Inquisition. Her sitting here while all of us 'explain' at her. Perdita
may be crazy, but she's not stupid."
"It's hardly the Inquisition," Mother said. She looked anxiously past me toward the door. "I'm sure
Perdita--" She stopped, stood up, and plunged off suddenly through the asparagus.
I turned around, half-expecting Perdita with light-up lips or a full-body tattoo, but I couldn't see through
the leaves. I pushed at the branches.
"Is it Perdita?" Viola said, leaning forward.
I peered around the mulberry bush. "Oh, my God," I said.
It was my mother-in-law, wearing a black abayah and a silk yarmulke. She swept toward us through a
pumpkin patch, robes billowing and eyes flashing. Mother hurried in her wake of trampled radishes,
looking daggers at me.
I turned them on Viola. "It's your grandmother Karen," I said accusingly. "You told me you didn't get
through to her."
"I didn't," she said. "Twidge, sit up straight. And put your slate down."
There was an ominous rustling in the rose arbor, as of leaves shrinking back in terror, and my mother-in-
law arrived.
"Karen!" I said, trying to sound pleased. "What on earth are you doing here? I thought you were in
Baghdad."
"I came back as soon as I got Viola's message," she said, glaring at everyone in turn. "Who's this?" she
demanded, pointing at Bysshe. "Viola's new livein?"

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"No!" Bysshe said, looking horrified.
"This is my law clerk, Mother," I said. "Bysshe Adams-Hardy."
"Twidge, why aren't you in school?"
"I am," Twidge said. "I'm remoting." She held up her slate. "See? Math."
"I see," she said, turning to glower at me. "It's a serious enough matter to require my great-grandchild's
being pulled out of school and the hiring of legal assistance, and yet you didn't deem it important enough
to notify me. Of course, you never tell me anything, Traci."
She swirled herself into the end chair, sending leaves and sweet pea blossoms flying and decapitating the
broccoli centerpiece. "I didn't get Viola's cry for help until yesterday. Viola, you should never leave
messages with Hassim. His English is virtually nonexistent. I had to get him to hum me your ring. I
recognized your signature, but the phones were out, so I flew home. In the middle of negotiations, I