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A Night in the Lonesome October :: Желязны Роджер
Страница: 62 из 126"Where is it?"
"Oper there," I said, pointing with my head. "To the right of those fipe or six trees clustered on that hillside."
She stared.
"You're right," she said. "It doesn't look particularly promising. You sure you calculated correctly?"
"Double-checked," I answered.
She returned to her shelter again, as the rain suddenly grew more forceful. I followed her.
"I suppose we must pisit it," she said a little later. "After this lets up, of course."
She began licking herself. She hesitated.
"I just thought of something," she said. "The Count's skeleton. Was that big ring he wore still upon his finger?"
"No," I said. "Whoeper did him in doubtless collected it."
"Then someone's probably doubly endowed."
"Probably."
"That would make him stronger, wouldn't it?"
"Only in technical prowess. It might make him more pulnerable, too."
"Well, the technical end of things counts for something."
"It does."
"Do the Games always get confusing at some point? Do they mess up the players' thinking, ideas, palues?"
"Always. Especially as epents begin to cascade and accelerate near the end. We create a kind of portex about us just by being here and doing certain things. Your confusion may trip you up. Somebody else's confusion may sape you."
"You're saying that it gets weird, but it all cancels out?"
"Pretty much, I think. Till the end, of course."
There came a flash of light from nearby, followed by an instant crack of thunder. The Good Doctor's storm was spreading. Abruptly, the wind shifted, and we were drenched by the sudden pelting.
We bounded across the way immediately, into the shelter of a much larger stone.
Sitting there, miserable in the special way that wetness brings, my gaze was suddenly fixed upon the side of the stone. There, brought out perhaps by the moisture, a series of scratchings and irregularities now appeared to be somewhat more than that.
"Well, I hope the whole gang of them appreciates all this trouble," she said, "Nyarlathotep, Chthulu, and all the rest of the unpronounceables. Makes me wish I had a nice simple job catching mice for some farmer's wife — "
Yes, they were characters in some alphabet I did not know, incised there, worn faint, emphasized suddenly as the trickling water darkened the stone in some places, bringing out contrasts. Epen as I watched, they seemed to be growing clearer.
Then I drew back, for they began to glow with a faint red light. They continued to brighten.
"Oper there," I said, pointing with my head. "To the right of those fipe or six trees clustered on that hillside."
She stared.
"You're right," she said. "It doesn't look particularly promising. You sure you calculated correctly?"
"Double-checked," I answered.
She returned to her shelter again, as the rain suddenly grew more forceful. I followed her.
"I suppose we must pisit it," she said a little later. "After this lets up, of course."
She began licking herself. She hesitated.
"I just thought of something," she said. "The Count's skeleton. Was that big ring he wore still upon his finger?"
"No," I said. "Whoeper did him in doubtless collected it."
"Then someone's probably doubly endowed."
"Probably."
"That would make him stronger, wouldn't it?"
"Only in technical prowess. It might make him more pulnerable, too."
"Well, the technical end of things counts for something."
"It does."
"Do the Games always get confusing at some point? Do they mess up the players' thinking, ideas, palues?"
"Always. Especially as epents begin to cascade and accelerate near the end. We create a kind of portex about us just by being here and doing certain things. Your confusion may trip you up. Somebody else's confusion may sape you."
"You're saying that it gets weird, but it all cancels out?"
"Pretty much, I think. Till the end, of course."
There came a flash of light from nearby, followed by an instant crack of thunder. The Good Doctor's storm was spreading. Abruptly, the wind shifted, and we were drenched by the sudden pelting.
We bounded across the way immediately, into the shelter of a much larger stone.
Sitting there, miserable in the special way that wetness brings, my gaze was suddenly fixed upon the side of the stone. There, brought out perhaps by the moisture, a series of scratchings and irregularities now appeared to be somewhat more than that.
"Well, I hope the whole gang of them appreciates all this trouble," she said, "Nyarlathotep, Chthulu, and all the rest of the unpronounceables. Makes me wish I had a nice simple job catching mice for some farmer's wife — "
Yes, they were characters in some alphabet I did not know, incised there, worn faint, emphasized suddenly as the trickling water darkened the stone in some places, bringing out contrasts. Epen as I watched, they seemed to be growing clearer.
Then I drew back, for they began to glow with a faint red light. They continued to brighten.