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Superior Saturday. Гарт НиксЧитать онлайн книгу.

Superior Saturday - Гарт Никс


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      “Eric? Michaeli?”

      Erazmuz was talking really fast, not letting Arthur get a word in, so he couldn’t tell him that he wasn’t home, even if it was the number that Erazmuz had dialled.

      “No, they’re not—”

      “That’s…”

      Erazmuz’s voice trailed away for a second, then he came back, talking faster than ever.

      “OK…you’ve got to grab any bottled water and food, like tins or packaged stuff, and an opener, get warm clothes and head down to the cellar as soon as you can, but no more than ten minutes from now. Ten minutes maximum, OK? Shut it up tight and stay down there. Do you know where Emily and the others are?”

      “No! What’s going on?”

      “General Pravuil has just flown in and he’s ordered the launch of four micronukes at what’s left of East Area Hospital at 12:01. If you get to the cellar, you should be OK, just don’t come out till I get there. I’ll be with the clean-up—”

      “What!” exclaimed Arthur. “Nukes! I can’t believe you—the army—is going to nuke part of the city? There must be thousands of people—”

      “Arthur! I shouldn’t even be talking to you! Don’t waste time!”

      There was a clear sound of desperation in Erazmuz’s voice.

      “We can’t stop it; the general’s got every clearance—the hospital’s been declared a viral plague nexus under the Creighton Act. Get water and food and some blankets and get down to the cellar now!”

      The line went dead. The phone started to fade in Arthur’s hand, becoming insubstantial, its sharp edges turning foggy and cold.

      “Hold on,” ordered Arthur. He tightened his grip. “I want to make a call.”

      The telephone solidified again. There was a sound like a distant choir singing, followed by some indistinct shouting. Then a light, silvery voice said, “Oh, get off, do. This is our exchange—we don’t care what Saturday says. Operator here.”

      “This is Lord Arthur. I need to speak to Dr Scamandros urgently, please. I’m not sure where he is—probably the Lower House.”

      “Ooh, Lord Arthur. It’s a bit tricky right now. I’ll do my best. Please hold.”

      Arthur lowered the phone for a second and looked around. He couldn’t see a clock and he had no idea what time of day it was. Nor did he know how close this private hospital was to the big East Area Hospital—it could be next door for all he knew. Leaf, Martine and Vess were in the other rooms, settling down sleepers, so there wasn’t anyone to ask. Many more of the old folk continued to shamble past.

      Arthur ran up the ramp, narrowly missing slowly-swinging elbows and widely-planted feet. He kept the earpiece to his head, but he couldn’t hear anything now, not even the shouting in the background.

      “Leaf! Leaf! What time is it?” he shouted in the general direction of the door. Then he raised the telephone and, hardly lowering his voice, insisted, “I must speak to Dr Scamandros! Quickly, please!”

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       CHAPTER TWO

      Leaf came running back as Arthur ran forward and the two nearly collided at the door. In recovering, they turned several sleepers around. It took a moment to get them sorted out, with Arthur still trying to hold the phone.

      “What time is it?” Arthur asked again.

      “Time? I wouldn’t have a clue,” puffed Leaf. “It’s night-time outside.”

      “Ask Vess, quickly. The army is going to nuke East Area Hospital at 12:01 Saturday morning!”

      “What!?” shrieked Leaf.

      “I can probably do something,” said Arthur hastily. “I have to check with Dr Scamandros. Find out how close to East Area we are!”

      Leaf turned and ran. Arthur pressed his ear harder against the phone, thinking he heard something. But the only sound was the shuffle of the sleepers as they slowly passed by him. The telephone itself was silent.

      “Come on, come on,” whispered Arthur anxiously, half into the telephone, half out into the air. He had an idea about something he could do, but he needed to check with Scamandros about exactly how to do it and what could go wrong.

      No answer came from the phone, but Leaf came running back.

      “It’s ten minutes to midnight on Friday night!” she shouted. “We’re less than half a mile away from East Area. This even used to be part of the big hospital years ago!”

      She skidded to a halt next to Arthur and gulped down several panicked breaths.

      “What are you going to do? We’ve only got ten minutes!”

      “Hello!” Arthur shouted into the telephone. “Hello! I have to speak to Dr Scamandros now!”

      There was no answer. Arthur gripped the phone even tighter, willing it to connect, but that didn’t help.

      “Probably nine minutes now,” said Leaf. “You’ve got to do something, Arthur!”

      Arthur glanced at the crocodile ring very quickly. Leaf saw him look.

      “Maybe Scamandros is wrong about the sorcerous contamination,” she said. “Or the ring doesn’t measure very well.”

      “It’s OK, Leaf,” said Arthur slowly. “I’ve been thinking about all that anyway. You know why the Will chose me to be the Rightful Heir, how it tricked Mister Monday? I was going to die…but getting the First Key saved me—”

      “Sure, I remember,” said Leaf hastily. “Now we’re all going to die unless you do something!”

      “I am going to do something,” said Arthur. “That’s what I’m explaining to you. I’ve worked out that I was going to die anyway, so everything I’ve done—everything I do from now on—is a kind of bonus anyway. Even if I turn into a Denizen, I’ll still be alive and at least I can help other people—”

      “Arthur, I understand!” Leaf interrupted. “Just do something, please! We can talk afterwards!”

      “OK,” said Arthur. He dropped the telephone. As it fell, it turned into a shower of tiny motes of light that faded and were gone before they hit the floor.

      Arthur took a deep breath and for a moment marvelled at just how deeply he could breathe now, his asthma gone with his old human self, all earthly frailties being left behind in his transition to a new immortal form. Then he took the mirror that was the Fifth Key out of his pocket and held it up in front of his face. An intense light shone around it in a fierce corona, but Arthur looked directly at the mirror without difficulty, seeing only the reflection of his own changing face, his more regular nose, his whiter teeth and his silkier hair.

      Leaf shielded her eyes with her arm, and even the sleepwalkers turned their heads away and screwed their eyes shut tighter as they kept shuffling forward.

      I really hope this works, thought Arthur. It has to work. Only I wish I could have checked with Dr Scamandros, because I don’t really know what

      Arthur grimaced, banished his fearful inner voice and focused on what he wanted the Fifth Key to do. Because it seemed easier and somehow made it sound more like it would happen, he spoke aloud to the Key.

      “Fifth Key of the Architect! I, Arthur Penhaligon, Rightful Heir of the Architect, um…I desire you to shield this city inside a bubble that keeps it separate from the Earth, a bubble that will protect the city and keep everyone


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