Сияние

Mid-Air

           Hishands,stillclutchingtheseatrests,hadgonealmostwhite.Hismouthwasdry.Somethingbadhappenedtotheboy.Hewascureofit.Ifanyonehadhurtthatlittlechild-

           "Doyoualwaysreactsoviolentlytotakeoffs?"

           Helookedaround.Itwasthewomaninthehorn-rimmedglasses.

           "Itwasn’tthat,"Hallorannsaid."I’vegotasteelplateinmyhead.FromKorea.Everynowandthenitgivesmeatwinge.Vibrates,don’tyouknow.Scramblesthesignal."

           "Isthatso?"

           "Yes,ma’am."

           "Itisthelinesoldierwhoultimatelypaysforanyforeignintervention,"thesharp-facedwomansaidgrimly.

           "Isthatso?"

           "Itis.Thiscountrymustswearoffitsdirtylittlewars.TheCIAhasbeenattherootofeverydirtylittlewarAmericahasfoughtinthiscentury.TheCIAanddollardiplomacy."

           Sheopenedherbookandbegantoread.TheNoSMOKINGsignwentoff.Hallorannwatchedtherecedinglandandwonderediftheboywasallright.Hehaddevelopedanaffectionatefeelingforthatboy,althoughhisfolkshadn’tseemedallthatmuch.

           HehopedtoGodtheywerewatchingoutforDanny.

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