"Роджер Желязны. Lord of Light (Лорд Света, engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

been a stable and still smelled as if it were.
She growled him directions, after raking him upward and down again with
oddly lovely brown-velvet eyes. He followed her directions, taking his way
up a zigzagging alley and down an outer stair, which ran along the wall of a
five-story building, ending at a door that opened upon a basement hallway.
It was damp and dark within.
He knocked upon the third door to his left, and after a time it opened.
The man stared at him. "Yes?"
"May I come in? It is a matter of some urgency . . ."
The man hesitated a moment, then nodded abruptly and stepped aside.
The prince moved past him and into his chamber. A great sheet of canvas
was spread out over the floor, before the stool upon which the man reseated
himself. He motioned the prince into the only other chair in the room.
He was short and big in the shoulders; his hair was pure white, and the
pupils of his eyes bore the smoky beginnings of cataract invasion. His hands
were brown and hard, the joints of his fingers knotted.
"Yes?" he repeated.
"Jan Olvegg," said the other.
"The old man's eyes widened, then narrowed to slits.
He weighed a pair of scissors in his hand.
"'It's a long way to Tipperary,' " said the prince.
The man stared, then smiled suddenly. "'If your heart's not here,'" he
said, placing the scissors on his workstand. "How long has it been, Sam?" he
asked.
"I've lost count of the years."
"Me too. But it must be forty - forty-five?-- since I've seen you.
Much beer over the damn dam since then, I daresay?"
Sam nodded.
"I don't really know where to begin . . ." said the man.
"For a start, tell me-- why 'Janagga'?"
"Why not?" asked the other. "It has a certain earnest, working-class
sound about it. How about yourself? Still in the prince business?"
"I'm still me," said Sam, "and they still call me Siddhartha when they
come to call."
The other chuckled. "And 'Binder of the Demons,'" he recited. "Very
good. I take it, then, since your fortunes do not match your garb, that you
are casing the scene, as is your wont."
Sam nodded. "And I have come upon much which I do not understand."
"Aye," sighed Jan. "Aye. How shall I begin? How? I shall tell you of
myself, that's how. . . . I have accumulated too much bad karma to warrant a
current transfer."
"What?"
"Bad karma, that's what I said. The old religion is not only the
religion-- it is the revealed, enforced and frighteningly demonstrable
religion. But don't think that last part too loudly. About a dozen years ago
the Council authorized the use of psych-probes on those who were up for
renewal. This was right after the Accelerationist-Deicrat split, when the
Holy Coalition squeezed out the tech boys and kept right on squeezing. The
simplest solution was to outlive the problem. The Temple crowd then made a
deal with the body sellers, customers were brain-probed and Accelerationists