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. It wasn t drinkable in the first place. He sat back into the jade chair,and it immediately turned soft and liquid, the hard green stone appearing to flow back into him.For a singleinstant he was outlined in green, as if his skin had turned to stone.Resting his hand on the table, he tappedthe surface gently; the gold flowed away from the table, turning his right hand into a shining glove.Shewatched the glowing gold flow up his arm; it vanished before it reached his elbow.Reaching for the bottle, hepoured a glass of clear honey-coloured liquid into the glass. What happened to my wine? she asked numbly. I think you will find this more interesting, he said, passing the glass over. What is it? she asked, bringing the glass to her nose and breathing deeply.She smelled honey and cloves,exotic spices, and other, less identifiable odors, complex as good wine and more intriguing. This is the nectar of the gods.It has not been drunk on this Earth for lo these many, many years.Taste of it,Strategy Brooks, and know what men have sought for ages. The newswoman thought of herself as a risktaker, but she d be damned it she d just up and swallowsomething offered her by this nutcase. If you don t mind, I ll have some later. She smiled her best politesmile and set the drink on the floor.He shrugged the matter away with the aplomb of a practiced maître d. Not at all perhaps once you learn totrust me. His expression was utterly benign as he adjusted his sunglasses. All right. Warily Strategy did as he bade her.The drink tasted sickly sweet and cloying.She could actuallyfeel it moving down her throat, setting her insides afire. So you re God? she said, then giggled with theabsurdity of the question. Not God, with a capital G, but rather god, with a small g, I am, Yeshua said reasonably, continuing with aninnocent eagerness that disarmed her. Now, tell me, Strategy, how are we going to bring this message tothe world? He waved his hands around the room, and immediately a small rainbow arced across the ceiling. What do I have to do to convince a disbelieving and cynical populous? I can t spend all my time making goldand precious stones no one will listen to me if I do; that s what people will want from me riches andtricks. Strategy crossed her long legs and sipped some more of the honey nectar.She was on surer ground now.Ifthere was one thing she could organize, it was a publicity campaign. First, and most important, she saidevenly, what s in it for me? Yeshua sat back into the chair, the dull light in the room running like oil off his antique RayBans, You remindme of someone long ago who once asked me the same question.She, too, was used to selling herservices.I will give you the same answer I gave her: You can have anything your heart desires. And what did this woman want? Yeshua gestured vaguely. Mary wanted money, jewels, fine clothes, a little power, youth, the usual. Always acceptable, Strategy remarked. Speaking of power, a show of my own would be nice. But after a while she realised that what she really wanted was me. This statement was so candid that itdidn t strike Strategy as outrageous at first.Strategy s grin was pure ice. Let s get this straight from the start: I ve never allowed my personal feelings to interfere with my work.I will be paid. That s what she said. He smiled at her, no trace of guile in his eyes. And don t flatter yourself; you re not my type. That s what she said, too. What happened to this Mary? Strategy was becoming uncomfortable, her emotions squirming just below thesurface, which troubled her. You re not a believer then? Yeshua asked, and answered before she could summon up a response. No, no,of course not.Very wise, too.Put not your trust in gods, for their jokes are cruel and their ways areincomprehensible. He moved restlessly, then turned toward Strategy. What happened to Mary? Well, sheeventually decided that she was indeed my type.You will, too, he added confidently. I only believe in what I can see and smell and touch. Strategy was feeling a bit queasy from the lunacy ofthe situation and, deciding the nectar was a bit too much for her, thought about having some of the wineinstead.But she hadn t made up her mind about this Yeshua yet.Even though he couldn t possibly be forreal, her instincts told her there was a great story here.Yeshua moved his hands again, and the rainbow reappeared across the room.It abruptly hardened, thenshattered into tiny bursts of light.The lights died to countless crumpled white dots which slowly seesawed tothe ground.A dozen fell on the seat beside Strategy.She reached over and touched them, half-expecting totouch nothing more than air, and discovering that it was a ball of tightly rolled paper.Unfolding the paper, shediscovered it was a new hundred-dollar bill.The next ball she opened was also a hundred, and the next was anew five-hundred-dollar note. I think you will find there are a million new dollars scattered around the room, Yeshua said.He stood upsmoothly. I ll leave you to tidy up. Where are you going? Strategy said, panicked now that she was going to lose the man who had apparentlycasually dropped a goodly sum of money in her lap for no reason.This was well beyond caprice.Shescrambled to her feet, hearing new dollar bills crackle beneath her.She nearly tipped over the wine as shereached down to retrieve it. Why, to rest of course, Yeshua said reasonably, nodding towards the bedroom. Even gods have to rest.Oh, he added, and we do not like to be disturbed. He walked past the woman, trailing a vaguely muskyodor, sweet-sour, slightly reminiscent of herpetology tanks, neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but a reminder ofhis presence.When he stepped into the bedroom, she distinctly heard the double lock engage, and then themaglocs snapped shut, sealing the room.Standing in the middle of the room, Strategy Brooks looked around at the countless crumpled balls of money. A million bucks! she whispered, and drank the warm wine in a rush.Then she wondered where the maidkept the sweeping brush [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]
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. It wasn t drinkable in the first place. He sat back into the jade chair,and it immediately turned soft and liquid, the hard green stone appearing to flow back into him.For a singleinstant he was outlined in green, as if his skin had turned to stone.Resting his hand on the table, he tappedthe surface gently; the gold flowed away from the table, turning his right hand into a shining glove.Shewatched the glowing gold flow up his arm; it vanished before it reached his elbow.Reaching for the bottle, hepoured a glass of clear honey-coloured liquid into the glass. What happened to my wine? she asked numbly. I think you will find this more interesting, he said, passing the glass over. What is it? she asked, bringing the glass to her nose and breathing deeply.She smelled honey and cloves,exotic spices, and other, less identifiable odors, complex as good wine and more intriguing. This is the nectar of the gods.It has not been drunk on this Earth for lo these many, many years.Taste of it,Strategy Brooks, and know what men have sought for ages. The newswoman thought of herself as a risktaker, but she d be damned it she d just up and swallowsomething offered her by this nutcase. If you don t mind, I ll have some later. She smiled her best politesmile and set the drink on the floor.He shrugged the matter away with the aplomb of a practiced maître d. Not at all perhaps once you learn totrust me. His expression was utterly benign as he adjusted his sunglasses. All right. Warily Strategy did as he bade her.The drink tasted sickly sweet and cloying.She could actuallyfeel it moving down her throat, setting her insides afire. So you re God? she said, then giggled with theabsurdity of the question. Not God, with a capital G, but rather god, with a small g, I am, Yeshua said reasonably, continuing with aninnocent eagerness that disarmed her. Now, tell me, Strategy, how are we going to bring this message tothe world? He waved his hands around the room, and immediately a small rainbow arced across the ceiling. What do I have to do to convince a disbelieving and cynical populous? I can t spend all my time making goldand precious stones no one will listen to me if I do; that s what people will want from me riches andtricks. Strategy crossed her long legs and sipped some more of the honey nectar.She was on surer ground now.Ifthere was one thing she could organize, it was a publicity campaign. First, and most important, she saidevenly, what s in it for me? Yeshua sat back into the chair, the dull light in the room running like oil off his antique RayBans, You remindme of someone long ago who once asked me the same question.She, too, was used to selling herservices.I will give you the same answer I gave her: You can have anything your heart desires. And what did this woman want? Yeshua gestured vaguely. Mary wanted money, jewels, fine clothes, a little power, youth, the usual. Always acceptable, Strategy remarked. Speaking of power, a show of my own would be nice. But after a while she realised that what she really wanted was me. This statement was so candid that itdidn t strike Strategy as outrageous at first.Strategy s grin was pure ice. Let s get this straight from the start: I ve never allowed my personal feelings to interfere with my work.I will be paid. That s what she said. He smiled at her, no trace of guile in his eyes. And don t flatter yourself; you re not my type. That s what she said, too. What happened to this Mary? Strategy was becoming uncomfortable, her emotions squirming just below thesurface, which troubled her. You re not a believer then? Yeshua asked, and answered before she could summon up a response. No, no,of course not.Very wise, too.Put not your trust in gods, for their jokes are cruel and their ways areincomprehensible. He moved restlessly, then turned toward Strategy. What happened to Mary? Well, sheeventually decided that she was indeed my type.You will, too, he added confidently. I only believe in what I can see and smell and touch. Strategy was feeling a bit queasy from the lunacy ofthe situation and, deciding the nectar was a bit too much for her, thought about having some of the wineinstead.But she hadn t made up her mind about this Yeshua yet.Even though he couldn t possibly be forreal, her instincts told her there was a great story here.Yeshua moved his hands again, and the rainbow reappeared across the room.It abruptly hardened, thenshattered into tiny bursts of light.The lights died to countless crumpled white dots which slowly seesawed tothe ground.A dozen fell on the seat beside Strategy.She reached over and touched them, half-expecting totouch nothing more than air, and discovering that it was a ball of tightly rolled paper.Unfolding the paper, shediscovered it was a new hundred-dollar bill.The next ball she opened was also a hundred, and the next was anew five-hundred-dollar note. I think you will find there are a million new dollars scattered around the room, Yeshua said.He stood upsmoothly. I ll leave you to tidy up. Where are you going? Strategy said, panicked now that she was going to lose the man who had apparentlycasually dropped a goodly sum of money in her lap for no reason.This was well beyond caprice.Shescrambled to her feet, hearing new dollar bills crackle beneath her.She nearly tipped over the wine as shereached down to retrieve it. Why, to rest of course, Yeshua said reasonably, nodding towards the bedroom. Even gods have to rest.Oh, he added, and we do not like to be disturbed. He walked past the woman, trailing a vaguely muskyodor, sweet-sour, slightly reminiscent of herpetology tanks, neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but a reminder ofhis presence.When he stepped into the bedroom, she distinctly heard the double lock engage, and then themaglocs snapped shut, sealing the room.Standing in the middle of the room, Strategy Brooks looked around at the countless crumpled balls of money. A million bucks! she whispered, and drank the warm wine in a rush.Then she wondered where the maidkept the sweeping brush [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]