Wild Cards. Джордж Р. Р. Мартин
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Название: Wild Cards
Автор: Джордж Р. Р. Мартин
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежная фантастика
isbn: 9780008239626
isbn:
“Unless you’re about to kiss me,” Michelle said, “you better back the hell off.”
Jan shrugged, then did so. “I don’t think you’re one of them. But you can never be sure. For instance, the Bushes are reptoids. So is the royal family in the U.K. I think they were behind Brexit.”
Michelle knew she shouldn’t say anything. It would be a bad idea. Almost as bad as coming on the band trip, but she couldn’t stop herself. “And why would they do that?”
Jan gave her a you-can’t-be-that-stupid look. “Because the queen wants British independence from Europe. Sheesh. Read a paper—or www .reptoids .com .”
“Okaaay, how about we get you back to your room.”
“No! I’m not finished patrolling.” Sparks flashed between her teeth.
“How about we go together?”
“That’s just what a reptoid would say to help throw me off the track.”
“Jan, just let me come with you. It’ll go faster with the two of us. I swear, not a lizard person here.”
“Reptoid! You better not be,” Jan said darkly. “I’d hate to have to kill you.”
“Yeah, I’d look down upon that.”
Thirty minutes later, Michelle escaped to her room. There was only so much glaring and staring at perfectly nice people she could take. Also, Jan was nuts and no matter what Michelle tried, Jan would double down on the cray-cray. It was with a sigh of relief that she sagged against the door of her room once she got inside.
Michelle hit send and her e-mail made a swooshy noise. Just as she plugged in her tablet to charge, she had a text on her phone from Wally: Bed check done. Everyone’s where they should be. Cripes, this is a lot of work.
One less thing to think about. She changed into her pajamas and robe, and tried to figure out what to do about God’s Weenies, the Plano Originals, and Bambi Coldwater. Blowing them up wasn’t an option, and that made her kinda sad.
Michelle grabbed the ice bucket, thinking a drink while she watched TV wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Keycard, she reminded herself. She tucked it into the pocket of her robe and slipped out the door. The ice machine was at the end of the hall near the emergency exit. She caught a glimpse of the exit door closing. Weird.
As she reached the alcove with the ice machine, she could have sworn she heard a giggle coming from the stairwell. A girl’s giggle. Then a lower-pitched voice.
Michelle’s eyes narrowed. This could not be one of her kids. They wouldn’t be that stupid.
She pushed the exit door open.
Sitting on the stairs were Segway and Kimmie. They were holding hands.
“Ms. Pond!” they said in unison. They dropped hands.
“It’s the first night,” Michelle said sternly. But not too sternly, just sternly enough. Not I want to terrify you, just You’ve really disappointed me. She held the door open. “Peter, go back to your room. Kimmie, what floor are you on?”
Kimmie stared down at her sneakers. “I’m on the fourth floor. Please don’t tell my mother!”
“Ms. Pond, we weren’t doing anything,” Peter said. He looked scared. “We were just talking. Mostly about band stuff. And classes. Did you know Plano has special instructors who come in and give them lessons? Like they’re doing here at the competition. But all the time.”
Michelle narrowed her eyes. “And how did hand-holding come to be involved in this academic conversation?”
“Well, it’s not like we were kissing or anything,” Peter said. Kimmie’s cheeks turned bright cherry red.
“You.” Michelle pointed at Segway. “Get back to your room. And you, Miss Coldwater, go on now.”
Segway and Kimmie exchanged longing looks, then Kimmie started down the stairs.
“I’m really sorry, Ms. P.” Peter opened the emergency door and peeked down the hall, then rolled out.
“Go on,” Michelle said. So far, it appeared as if she was the worst chaperone ever, what with Segway and Kimmie canoodling on the first night. Michelle went to the ice machine and filled her bucket.
She turned, and standing a few feet before her was a woman. Her gray hair was a knotted mess, and she had a hideous rictus expression on her face. Michelle was shocked, and gooseflesh raced down her arms. The woman started toward her and a bubble began to form in Michelle’s free hand. But before she could let it fly, the woman vanished.
Michelle closed her hand, letting the bubble pop, absorbing its energy. Damn. I guess those ghost stories are real. Maybe I’ll have all the vodka in the minibar.
POP, POP, POP.
The report of the gun made her cringe. Soldiers screamed and collapsed. Michelle let bubbles go and they exploded. Then she blew up Aero.
Bam, bam, bam.
“Mom! Wake up!”
Michelle woke with a start. Sunlight was pouring around the edges of the drapes. Why did no hotel make curtains big enough to black out a room? she wondered. Adesina was pounding on her door. Shit. This can’t be good.
“Just a second.”
Michelle glanced at her phone as she stumbled out of bed. She opened the door, still disoriented from her dream. Not a dream, though. Kazakhstan.
“OMG, Mom,” Adesina said, holding out her tablet. “You’ve totes got to see this.”
Michelle took the tablet and let Adesina into the room. Adesina was having better luck with her wings this morning. They were snuggled against her back.
Michelle felt a little oogy from the drinks the night before. Those three vodkas from the minibar weren’t СКАЧАТЬ