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The Stars My Destination ( Tiger! Tiger! ) :: Bester Alfred
Страница: 32 из 164Presteign would have preferred human servants, but androids and robots kept secrets.
«Be seated, Captain Yeovil,» he said courteously. «This is Mr. Regis Sheffield, representing me in this matter. That young man is Mr. Sheffield's assistant.»
«Bunny's my portable law library,» Sheffield grunted.
Presteign touched a control. The still life in the star chamber came alive. The organist played, the librarian sorted books, the secretary typed, the bartender shook drinks. It was spectacular; and the impact, carefully calculated by industrial psychometrists, established control for Presteign and put visitors at a disadvantage.
«You spoke of a man named Foyle, Captain Yeovil?» Presteign prompted. Captain Peter Y'ang-Yeovil of Central Intelligence was a lineal descendant of the learned Mencius and belonged to the Intelligence Tong of the Inner Planets Armed Forces. For two hundred years the IPAF had entrusted its intelligence work to the Chinese who, with a five thousand-year history of cultivated subtlety behind them, had achieved wonders. Captain Y'angYcovil was a member of the dreaded Society of Paper Men, an adept of the Tientsin Image Makers, a Master of Superstition, and fluent in the Secret Speech. He did not look Chinese.
Y'ang-Yeovil hesitated, fully aware of the psychological pressures operating against him. He examined Presteign's ascetic, basilisk face; Sheffield's blunt, aggressive expression; and the eager young man named Bunny whose rabbit features had an unmistakable Oriental cast. It was necessary for Yeovil to re-establish control or effect a compromise.
He opened with a flanking movement. «Are we related anywhere within fifteen degrees of consanguinity?» he asked Bunny in the Mandarin dialect. «I am of the house of the learned Meng-Tse whom the barbarians call Mencius.»
«Then we are hereditary enemies,» Bunny answered in faltering Mandarin. «For the formidable ancestor of my line was deposed as governor of Shantung in 342 B.C. by the earth pig Meng-Tse.»
«With all courtesy I shave your ill-formed eyebrows,» Y'ang-Yeovil said.
«Most respectfully I singe your snaggle teeth.» Bunny laughed.
«Come, sirs,» Presteign protested.
«We are reaffirming a three thousand-year blood feud,» Y'ang-Yeovil explained to Presteign, who looked sufficiently unsettled by the conversation and the laughter which he did not understand. He tried a direct thrust. «When will you be finished with Foyle?» he asked.
«What Foyle?» Sheffield cut in.
«Be seated, Captain Yeovil,» he said courteously. «This is Mr. Regis Sheffield, representing me in this matter. That young man is Mr. Sheffield's assistant.»
«Bunny's my portable law library,» Sheffield grunted.
Presteign touched a control. The still life in the star chamber came alive. The organist played, the librarian sorted books, the secretary typed, the bartender shook drinks. It was spectacular; and the impact, carefully calculated by industrial psychometrists, established control for Presteign and put visitors at a disadvantage.
«You spoke of a man named Foyle, Captain Yeovil?» Presteign prompted. Captain Peter Y'ang-Yeovil of Central Intelligence was a lineal descendant of the learned Mencius and belonged to the Intelligence Tong of the Inner Planets Armed Forces. For two hundred years the IPAF had entrusted its intelligence work to the Chinese who, with a five thousand-year history of cultivated subtlety behind them, had achieved wonders. Captain Y'angYcovil was a member of the dreaded Society of Paper Men, an adept of the Tientsin Image Makers, a Master of Superstition, and fluent in the Secret Speech. He did not look Chinese.
Y'ang-Yeovil hesitated, fully aware of the psychological pressures operating against him. He examined Presteign's ascetic, basilisk face; Sheffield's blunt, aggressive expression; and the eager young man named Bunny whose rabbit features had an unmistakable Oriental cast. It was necessary for Yeovil to re-establish control or effect a compromise.
He opened with a flanking movement. «Are we related anywhere within fifteen degrees of consanguinity?» he asked Bunny in the Mandarin dialect. «I am of the house of the learned Meng-Tse whom the barbarians call Mencius.»
«Then we are hereditary enemies,» Bunny answered in faltering Mandarin. «For the formidable ancestor of my line was deposed as governor of Shantung in 342 B.C. by the earth pig Meng-Tse.»
«With all courtesy I shave your ill-formed eyebrows,» Y'ang-Yeovil said.
«Most respectfully I singe your snaggle teeth.» Bunny laughed.
«Come, sirs,» Presteign protested.
«We are reaffirming a three thousand-year blood feud,» Y'ang-Yeovil explained to Presteign, who looked sufficiently unsettled by the conversation and the laughter which he did not understand. He tried a direct thrust. «When will you be finished with Foyle?» he asked.
«What Foyle?» Sheffield cut in.