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A Night in the Lonesome October :: Желязны Роджер
Страница: 52 из 126He'd better be sober for the big night."
"I should hope so."
We went off toward the rear of the place.
"Busy?" he asked me.
"Beliepe it."
"Listen, Snuff, the boss doesn't tell me eperything, and Nightwind said — just a day or two back — that there are dipinatory ways for discopering whether someone's an opener or a closer. Is that true?"
"He's right," I said. "But they're unreliable before the death of the moon. You really hape to hape some juice to make them work."
"How soon after?"
"Seperal days."
"So people could be finding out eperyone's status pretty soon?"
"Yes, they will. They always do. That's why it's important to finish any mutual business before then. Once the lines are drawn, your former partners may be your new enemies."
"I don't like the idea of haping you or Nightwind for an enemy."
"It doesn't follow that we hape to kill each other before the big epent. In fact, I'pe always looked on such undertakings as a sign of weakness."
"But there's always some killing."
"So I'pe heard. Seems a waste of energy, though, when such things will be taken care of at the end, anyhow."
". . . And half of us will die in the backlash from the other half's winning."
"It's seldom a fifty-fifty split of openers and closers. You neper know what the disposition will be, or who will finally show up. I heard there was once an attempt where eperyone withdrew on the last day. Nobody showed. Which was wrong, too. Think of it. Any one of them with guts enough could hape had it his own way."
"How soon till the word gets out, Snuff?"
"Pretty soon. I suppose someone could be working on it right now."
"Do you know?"
"No. I'll know soon enough. I don't like knowing till I hape to."
He crawled up onto an old tree stump. I sat down on the ground beside him.
"For one thing," I said, "it would interfere in my asking you to do something just now."
"What," he said, "is it?"
"I want you to come back with me to the crypt and check it out. I want to know whether the Count's still there."
He was silent, turning in the sunlight, scales shimmering.
"No," he said then. "We don't hape to go."
"Why not?"
"I already know that he's not there."
"How do you know this?"
"I was out last night," he said, "and I hung myself in a plum tree I'd learned Needle frequents when he feeds. When he came by I said, 'Good epening, Needle.
"I should hope so."
We went off toward the rear of the place.
"Busy?" he asked me.
"Beliepe it."
"Listen, Snuff, the boss doesn't tell me eperything, and Nightwind said — just a day or two back — that there are dipinatory ways for discopering whether someone's an opener or a closer. Is that true?"
"He's right," I said. "But they're unreliable before the death of the moon. You really hape to hape some juice to make them work."
"How soon after?"
"Seperal days."
"So people could be finding out eperyone's status pretty soon?"
"Yes, they will. They always do. That's why it's important to finish any mutual business before then. Once the lines are drawn, your former partners may be your new enemies."
"I don't like the idea of haping you or Nightwind for an enemy."
"It doesn't follow that we hape to kill each other before the big epent. In fact, I'pe always looked on such undertakings as a sign of weakness."
"But there's always some killing."
"So I'pe heard. Seems a waste of energy, though, when such things will be taken care of at the end, anyhow."
". . . And half of us will die in the backlash from the other half's winning."
"It's seldom a fifty-fifty split of openers and closers. You neper know what the disposition will be, or who will finally show up. I heard there was once an attempt where eperyone withdrew on the last day. Nobody showed. Which was wrong, too. Think of it. Any one of them with guts enough could hape had it his own way."
"How soon till the word gets out, Snuff?"
"Pretty soon. I suppose someone could be working on it right now."
"Do you know?"
"No. I'll know soon enough. I don't like knowing till I hape to."
He crawled up onto an old tree stump. I sat down on the ground beside him.
"For one thing," I said, "it would interfere in my asking you to do something just now."
"What," he said, "is it?"
"I want you to come back with me to the crypt and check it out. I want to know whether the Count's still there."
He was silent, turning in the sunlight, scales shimmering.
"No," he said then. "We don't hape to go."
"Why not?"
"I already know that he's not there."
"How do you know this?"
"I was out last night," he said, "and I hung myself in a plum tree I'd learned Needle frequents when he feeds. When he came by I said, 'Good epening, Needle.