"Zelazny, Roger - My Lady Of The Diodes" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

“When the call is answered, do not respond or hang up, but place the receiver on the ledge and enter the next booth, where you will dial the following number…”

I did this, twelve times in all.

“That is sufficient,” said Maxine. “You have tied up all the lines to the Hall, so that no outgoing calls may be placed. It is highly improbable that anyone will come along and break these connections. Return at once to the car. Replace the padlock on the door as you go. Then drive directly to the Hall. Park in the corner lot with the sign that says FIRST HOUR 500—350 EACH ADD’L HOUR. You may pay in advance at that lot, so have your money ready. Tell the attendant that you will only be a short time.”

I returned to the car, entered it, and began driving.

“Keep your speed at thirty-five miles per hour, and put on your hat.”

“Must I? Already? I hate hats.”

“Yes, put it on. The glasses, also.”

“All right, they’re on. Hats mess your hair up, though, more than the wind they’re supposed to be protecting it from. They blow off, too.”

“How is the traffic? Heavy? Light? —They keep a man’s head warm.”

“Pretty light. —They do not. Hair takes care of your head, and your ears still stick out and get cold.”

“What color is the traffic signal ahead? —Then why do other men wear hats?”

“It just turned green. —They’re stupid conformists. Hats are as bad as neckties.”

“Barring untoward traffic circumstances, your present speed will take you through the next two intersections. You will be stopped by a red light at the third one. At that point, you will have time to fill your pipe—and perhaps to light it, also, although you were rather slow when you practiced. If you cannot light it there, you should have two more opportunities before you reach the parking lot. —What’s wrong with neckties?

“Check your wristwatch against the time now: You have exactly nine minutes before the acid eats through the power cables.— Neckties are elegant.”

“Check——Neckties are stupid!”

“Now place me in the back seat and cover me with the blanket. I will administer electrical shocks to anyone who tries to steal me.”

I did this, got the pipe going, found the lot.

“Keep puffing lots of smoke in front of your face as you talk with the attendant. You have the brown paper bag and the collapsible carton? The door-couple and the light?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Take off your gloves. Remove your hearing aid and get it out of sight. Watch how you handle the steering wheel now. Palm it, and rub after each touch.”

I parked the car, paid the attendant, strolled on up the street toward the Hall. Two minutes and twenty seconds remained.

I climbed the front stairs and entered the lobby. The Seekfax exhibit was in a room toward the back and to my left. I moved off in that direction.

One minute and forty seconds remained. I emptied my pipe into a sandpot, scraped the bowl.

No windows in the exhibit room, Maxine had said, and she’d digested the blueprints. Metal frame, metal doorplate—just as Maxine had said.

I approached the door, which was standing open. I could hear voices, caught glimpses of banks of machinery, exhibit cases. I put away my pipe and changed my glasses to the infrareds. Fifteen seconds. I put on my gloves. Ten.