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Breaugh made a gesture of assent. "I've got enough," said Janniver.
Zaer tilted the glass down his throat, set it down with a thud. "At the age of four I promised
my father never to turn down a drink."
Ditmar hesitated, then said, "Might as well spend my money on liquor as anything else."
"That's all money is good for," said Breaugh. 'To buy a little fun into your life."
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"A lot of money buys a lot of fun," said Ditmar morosely. 'Try and get the money."
Zaer gestured, a wide, fanciful sweep of the arm. "Be an artist, an inventor, create
something, build something. There's no future working for wages."
"Look at this new crop of schoolboy wonders," said Breaugh sourly. "Where in the name of
get-out do they come from? Spontaneous generation by the action of sunlight on slime? ...
All of a sudden, nothing but unsung geniuses, everywhere you look. De Satz, Coley-
atomicians. Honn, Versovitch, Lekky, Brule, Richards-administrators. Gandelip, New,
Cardosa-financiers. Dozens of them, none over twenty-three, twenty-four. All of 'Ern come
up like meteors."
"Don't forget Pete Zaer," said Zaer. "He's another one, but he hasn't meteored yet. Give
him another year."
"Well," muttered Ditmar, "maybe it's a good thing. Somebody's got to do our thinking for
us. We're fed, we're clothed, we're educated, we work at soft jobs, and good liquor's cheap.
That's all life means for ninety-nine out of a hundred."
"If they'd only take the hangover out of the liquor," sighed Zaer.
"Liquor's a release from living," said Janniver somberly. "Drunkenness is about the only
adventure left Drunkenness and death."
"Yes," said Breaugh. "You can always show contempt for life by dying."
Zaer laughed. "Whiskey or cyanide. Make mine whisky."
Fresh highballs appeared. They shook dice for the tag. Mario lost, signed the check.
After a moment Breaugh said, "It's true though. Drunkenness and death. The
unpredictables. The only two places left to go-unless you can afford twenty million dollars
for a planetary rocket And even then there's only dead rock after you get there."
Ditmar said, "You overlooked a third possibility."
"What's that?"
"The Chateau d'lf."
All sat quiet; then all five shifted in their chairs, settling back or straightening themselves.
"Just what is the Chateau d'lf?" asked Mario.
"Where is it?" asked Zaer. "The advertisement said Try the Chateau d'lf,' but it said
nothing about how or where."
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Janniver grunted. "Probably a new nightclub."
Mario shook his head doubtfully. "The advertisement gave a different impression."
"It's not a night club," said Ditmar. All eyes swung to him. "No, I don't know what it is. I
know where it is, but only because there's been rumors a couple months now."
"What kind of rumors?"
"Oh-nothing definite. Just hints. To the effect that if you want adventure, if you've got
money to pay for it, if you're willing to take a chance, if you have no responsibilities you
can't abandon-"
"If-if-if," said Breaugh with a grin. "The Chateau d'lf."
Ditmar nodded. "That's it exactly."
"Is it dangerous?" asked Zaer. "If all they do is string a tight-wire across a snake-pit, turn a
tiger loose at you, and you can either walk tight-rope or fight tiger, I'd rather sit here and
drink high-balls and figure how to beat Janniver in the tournament"
Ditmar shrugged. "I don't know."
Breaugh frowned. "It could be a dope-den, a new kind of bordello."
"There no such thing," said Zaer. "It's a haunted house with real ghosts."
"If we're going to include fantasy," said Ditmar, "a time machine."
"If," said Breaugh.
There was a short ruminative silence.
"It's rather peculiar," said Mario, "Ditmar says there've been rumors a couple months now.
And last week an advertisement."
"What's peculiar about it?" asked Janniver. "That's the sequence in almost any new
enterprise." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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