"Zelazny, Roger - Amber 06 - Trumps Of Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

up my bag and departed. Mr. Mulligan wasn't in, or was sleeping, so I left my
key in his mailbox before heading up the street to take my breakfast at a nearby
diner.
Traffic was light, and all of the vehicles well behaved. I walked slowly,
listening and looking. It was a pleasant morning, promising a beautiful day. I
hoped to settle things quickly, so I could enjoy it at my leisure.
I reached the diner unmolested. I took a seat beside the window. Just as
the waiter came to take my order I saw a familiar figure swinging along the
street--a former classmate and later fellow employee--Lucas Raynard: six feet
tall, red-haired, handsome in spite, or perhaps because, of an artistically
broken nose, with the voice and manner of the salesman he was.
I knocked on the window and he saw me, waved, turned and entered.
"Merle, I was right," he said, coming up to the table, clasping my shoulder
briefly, seating himself and taking the menu out of my hands. "Missed you at
your place and guessed you might be here."
He lowered his eyes and began reading the menu.
"Why?" I asked.
"If you need more time to consider, I'll come back," the waiter said.
"No," Luke answered and read off an enormous order. I added my own. Then:
"Because you're a creature of habit."
"Habit?" I replied. "I hardly eat here anymore."
"I know," he answered, "but you usually did when the pressure was on. Like,
right before exams--or if something was bothering you."
"Hm," I said. There did seem to be something to that, though I had never
before realized it. I spun the ashtray with its imprint of a unicorn's head, a
smaller version of the stained-glass one that stood as part of a partition
beside the doorway: "I can't say why," I finally stated. "Besides, what makes
you think something's bothering me?"
"I remembered that paranoid thing you have about April 30, because of a
couple of accidents."
"More than a couple. I never told you about all of them."
"So you still believe it?"
"Yes."
He shrugged. The waiter came by and filled our coffee cups.
"Okay," he finally agreed. "Have you had it yet today?"
"No."
"Too bad. I hope it doesn't pall your thinking."
I took a sip of coffee.
"No problem," I told him.
"Good." He sighed and stretched. "Listen, I just got back to town
yesterday..."
"Have a good trip?"
"Set a new sales record."
"Great."
"Anyhow... I just learned when I checked in that you'd left."
"Yeah. I quit about a month ago."
"Miller's been trying to reach you. But with your phone disconnected he
couldn't call. He even stopped by a couple of times, but you were out."
"Too bad."
"He wants you back."