Sitting at the table under the big picture clip depicting AT-TE assault walking, Ray and Anadi ate perfectly cooked fish, drank wine and listened to music. The singer on the stage, judging by the blue skin and coal-black hair belonged to either the Vronian race or the race of the etti. It had a deep timbre of voice and an impressive range. The woman sang lyrical songs, or something of the popular holofilms - about the war and the army, of course, but how else? From time to time it was replaced by a trumpeter, hairless ratatak, whose hands were covered with complex tattoos to the elbows, and performed themes from the same films. And then a man in an ordinary civil shirt, uniformed Navy trousers, banded with a statutory belt with a metal-plastic brace, and old, collected in a veteran way harmonica, state boots climbed on the stage. He had a quetarry in his hands. Doubt that he was a real warrior, not a rear womp, wouldn't even be a skeptic: his cheek was crossed by an untreated plasma burn from temple to chin. Burned skin reached the corner of his mouth, which made the performer's lips seem to be crooked in a sardonic smile. How will he sing with such an injury, surprised Quinn to himself. However, it turned out that the diction of the veteran did not suffer in any way, and the voice was strong and very melodic, no worse than other opera tenors. Simply, under the "three chords", but heartily, the bard sang songs, some of which Ray knew by name, others - only by the first lines. "Hiking melody", "Punching the atmosphere ...", "Invisible" ... The audience accepted him much more emotionally than the singer and trumpeter, after each song awarding applause.
- Somebody close to her must have died," Ray quietly said, pointing his eyes at the old twilight in black glasses that she had raised a flashing ruby glass in the direction of the stage.
- Maybe, yes, or maybe not. Do you see the glasses? I'd like to know what kind of fight she fired her last shot at...
Ray's been cursing himself with the most unflattering words in his mind. The girl tells him these things, and he did not guess! Sask'obrary, Rilot's legendary snipers! And the song was about them. And the veteran bard touched the strings again.
We pay for the debts of another war,
One more thing in between.
And nerves, like blades, are naked,
And the strings are poured in black and white,
And the nerves, like the blades, are naked...
We're paying for the debts of another war.
In the time of the lost soldiers,
Keeping an eye out for time,
From the flames of those who came back,
There must be a lot of guys like us
From the flames of those who came back
In the time of the lost soldiers.
We are held in time by a harder anchor,
Forgot to turn the pages again.
We are prisoners of unfulfilled seas,
Eyes in the eye, like old loopholes...
We're prisoners of unfulfilled seas,
We're holding our time tighter than anchors.
We pay for the debts of another war,
Without knowing how this one's gonna turn out.
It is not for us to look for burial silence,
We're gonna have to survive this afternoon...
It's not for us to look for grave silence.
We're paying for the debts of another war. [1]
Anadi took a hard breath.
- Yes... The war was over, I think, and the debts remained," she said quietly. - And we can't get away from them.
- What do you mean? - Ray looked into her eyes and shuddered inwardly, such a deadly longing shone in their depths.
- So, thoughts out loud, sorry. Pay up, and let's get out of here as soon as possible.
- Are you upset?
- A little bit. That's not the point. I feel something, and we'd better get out before it's too late.
Passing by the Twileca in glasses, the girl gently touched her shoulder. The dark glasses didn't let her see the details, but the way she went ahead, Ray realized she was seeing his companion off with a gaze of burnt eyes. And the doors of both of them were almost knocked down by a big, short-cut man who was in a hurry to get out more than they were. Quinn stood between him and his companion so that the stranger wouldn't push her by accident, and a sliding point with his shoulder took over.
- Look where you're going, you little rancor jerk! - He murmured after the man. - Is he drunk or under the glitter?
- Come on, take the hutt! - Anadi pulled his elbow aside angrily. Just in time, because there was another group of visitors in a hurry to the restaurant, this time young guys, six people, all tall, athletic and something elusively similar to each other. Ray didn't understand what exactly was uniting them at the time. Whether it's posture, gait, or facial expression - some bad hot fun, gloomy shine of the eyes and equally inclined head.