Книга только для ознакомления
..."
He couldn't go on. Words were simply not adequate.
At that moment, the pressure of the mob eased. The hole punched into the side of the concrete wall by the PVC had opened up an alternative route--at least so most people appeared to believe, for they were streaming through the opening and running down into the culvert with no very clear idea of where they were going or why.
"Bizarre," said Raoul. "And just think of it. Most of these people are probably sober."
The Little One nodded gloomily, tugged on his friend's sleeve, and pointed.
The Royal Limojet could not be seen, surrounded as it was by the Royal Guard. But Raoul knew what his friend meant.
"Ah, yes. The king."
Raoul contemplated the sea of humanity roiling between them and His Majesty and, for the first time in his life, the Adonian was subject to a feeling of helplessness.
"There is simply no way, my friend," he said to the Little One. "We are doomed to failure."
This feeling made him uncomfortable. Raoul hated feeling uncomfortable. He wondered if he'd brought along anything to alleviate the stress. Opening his handbag, he began searching for relief. Several sheaves of stiff, folded paper, tucked into the side of the purse, hmnpered his rummaging. He took the papers out, glanced at them--vaguely curious to see what they were--and started to toss them away.
And then he had an idea
|
