Видоизмененный углерод

Chapter 7

           Ifrownedandclutchedatthehardenedscartissueonmyforearm.Noblood.Withtherealisation,Icarnefullyawakeandsatupinthebigcrimsonbed.Theshiftinthesmellofincensethathadoriginallynudgedmetowardsconsciousnesswasfullyresolvedintothatofcoffeeandfreshbread.TheHendrix’solfactorywake-upcall.Lightwaspouringintothedimmedroomthroughaflawinthepolarisedglassofthewindow.

           "Youhaveavisitor,"saidthevoiceoftheHendrixbriskly.

           "Whattimeisit?"Icroaked.Thebackofmythroatseemedtohavebeenliberallypaintedwithsupercooledglue.

           "Ten-sixteen,locally.Youhavesleptforsevenhoursandforty-twominutes."

           "Andmyvisitor?"

           "OumouPrescott,"saidthehotel."Doyourequirebreakfast?"

           Igotoutofbedandheadedforthebathroom."Yes.Coffeewithmilk,whitemeat,well-cooked,andfruitjuiceofsomekind.YoucansendPrescottup."

           Bythetimethedoorchimedatme,Iwasoutoftheshowerandpaddingaroundinaniridescentbluebathrobetrimmedwithgoldbraid.IcollectedmybreakfastfromtheservicehatchandbalancedthetrayononehandwhileIopenedthedoor.

           OumouPrescottwasatall,impressive-lookingAfricanwoman,toppingmysleevebyacoupleofcentimetres,herhairbraidedbackwithdozensofovalglassbeadsinsevenoreightofmyfavouritecoloursandhercheekboneslinedwithsomesortofabstracttattooing.

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