D. Holdsworth

Ирина Ачкасова: литературный дневник

“Albrecht? Albrecht. Yes, good idea,” Mrs B replied. “You take him,
I’ll take Carruthers. I have a feeling he might be useful.” Mrs B looked
down pensively at the curled-up hedgehog.
Charlie, Toby and Paranoid Dave looked at each other, feeling
slightly baffled and very scared, and then watched as Mrs B stoodback up a little creakily – stretched her back for a moment – and
bustled off towards the entrance hall, still carrying Carruthers in her
apron.


“Hmm? Yes, that is strange…” the Professor said. “And here’s
another strange thing. Carruthers always loves his diced carrots at
this time of day and yet he’s not eating tonight. Most unusual.” The
Professor was staring at his hedgehog, who was ignoring his treat
and fidgeting on his front paws, looking left and right.




About 10,000 feet above their heads, Bulk Carrier BC144 of the
Jagamath fleet was breezing past at the regulation tropospheric
cruising speed for a bulk carrier under full load in a near-planetary
drop-zone. Everything on board was running smoothly, but for one
tiny detail. A rather sloppy Cenaphian sub-contractor had forgotten to
close the lower ventral docking bay. It was a modest-sized entrance,
about thirty by forty yards, but it was positioned on the underside of
the vessel and light flooded out of it in a vaguely rectangular pattern.



The pair made their way quietly through the house. The familiarity
between them required few words. When they reached it, the study
was illuminated by the soft light of an old banker’s lamp on the
Professor’s desk, and the glow of a small fire that Mrs B had lit in the
grate. The Professor made his way to the set of library steps that had
caught Toby’s attention earlier. He paused with one hand on the rail
and turned back to Mrs B.
“Is the house being watched?”
“Not that I can tell,” Mrs B replied. “Except perhaps by satellite?”
“Oh, I don’t think we need to worry about that.”



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