Читаем The Smuggled Atom Bomb полностью

During the night, millions of dollars’ worth of winter vegetables stiffened, took on frosty carapaces and perished ignominiously. Duff chopped wood and the younger Yateses did their homework around a fire while a kerosene heater burned odoriferiously in their mother’s room. In the morning, which was sunny, but, to natives, shockingly cold, public schools stayed closed and many business firms failed to open, owing to the absence of employees who had no overcoats to wear to their jobs. Duff went to his classes, however.

He was chilled through by midafternoon and stopped in the Student Club cafeteria for a cup of coffee before taking the bus. There he spotted Scotty Smythe, sitting alone, looking morose. Duff carried his cup over to Scotty’s table.

“Coming for your lesson tomorrow, Sir Isaac?”

Smythe looked up. “Hi, Einstein! Guess so.”

“Haven’t seen you around lately. What gives?”

Scotty stared thoughtfully at Duff. His lips drew out in a somber line, but his eyes flickered. “You observe here,” he presently replied, a young man, five foot ten and a quarter, one hundred and fifty-eight pounds. Hair, muddy black; eyes, putty gray; occupation, college senior. He is carrying the torch.”

“Fight?” Scotty contemplated the question. “No. Brush.”

“Meaning what?”

“You notice any change in Eleanor lately?”

“She’s tired. Nervous. On edge.”

The younger man turned over those words in his mind. “Minimally,” he said in the end. “She is also suddenly interested in a laddy-boy named Tony who owns half the hardware stores in Florida, or will, when his pappy kicks off or retires. This chump is pretty to look at; he went to Princeton, and he has a convertible too. Chartreuse.”

“I’ve seen it. And him.” Scotty went on musingly, “Now, Eleanor never did okay my proposition exactly. But I felt she was interested in me. Seems not. No time for Smythes these days. She’s also taken to going places with that large charge of human barge known as Avalanche Billings.”

“A wholesome boy,” Duff said, not enthusiastically.

“In a nutshell, man, you’ve said it all! It’s not enough that his pappy is a brewer. His boy had to be an athlete too. Nearly All-American, you may have noticed. Avalanche is a clown — makes the girls laugh. Outside of rugged good looks— destined to become bloated as the years pass—”

“Very little,” Duff agreed.

“A cipher. A zero. A zed. What she sees in him—”

“Not even a convertible,” Duff murmured.

“Touché, pal!” Scotty chuckled dolefully. “You don’t sound so doggoned elated yourself.”

“Things are melancholy,” Duff agreed.

Scotty was silent. He finished his coffee. He eyed Duff for a while. “Speaking of beer and such,” he said, “and I was, by inference, a while back, are you a drinking man?”

“No,” Duff replied. “Not a matter of scruples. Purse. And lack of experience.”

“I was sitting here,” Scotty continued, “considering the poor condition of my soul. I was thinking of ringing up a babe and buying same a drink or two. Only a lack of companionship prevented me from recourse to the anodyne. But it runs through my mind, now, that if you’d consent to the measure, I might ring up two babes.”

Duff grinned. “You forget my devoirs, chores, duties.”

“On the contrary. I know your routine. I know the kids could manage things one evening without you. You could meet me at the Palm Paradise Café at eight o’clock, and I would bring the ladies. It would be my party. Celebration for an A in a math test.”

“You know,” Duff answered after a moment, “I think I will! I feel in a mood to do damned near anything!”

“I’ll pick a dame accordingly,” Scotty grinned.

When Duff had gone, Prescott Smythe took from a pocket a small black notebook and began earnestly to con its pages. Listed in them were the names and phone numbers of several scores of young ladies who would gladly consent to help lift any shadow from the Smythe soul. The problem was to find one who would serve Duff in the same way. Duff was not, Scotty reflected, the kind of collegian, or post-collegian, who impressed young women.

His small talk was unreliable. He had said once that he didn’t dance much. As far as Scotty knew, he had never been seen to take a cocktail or even a beer. He had dated no coeds, so there was no grapevine information available on him.

Scotty turned pages all the way to the S’s before he halted for any length of time. His finger rested on the name of Indigo Stacey. “Indigo Stacey,” the entry read, “99-7663.” And under that “bru— vgl — s—tt — cw — wfi.” That, in Scotty’s code, meant, “Brunette, very good-looking, sexy, too tall, college widow, worth further investigation.” He remembered.

Peculiar dame, but handsome. Graduated two years before. Lived with another gal in a bungalow near the campus. Liked older guys, even as a student; very tall and helpfully man-crazy.

Перейти на страницу:

Похожие книги

Одиночка. Акванавт
Одиночка. Акванавт

Что делать, если вдруг обнаруживается, что ты неизлечимо болен и тебе осталось всего ничего? Вопрос серьезный, ответ неоднозначный. Кто-то сложит руки, и болезнь изъест его куда раньше срока, назначенного врачами. Кто-то вцепится в жизнь и будет бороться до последнего. Но любой из них вцепится в реальную надежду выжить, даже если для этого придется отправиться к звездам. И нужна тут сущая малость – поверить в это.Сергей Пошнагов, наш современник, поверил. И вот теперь он акванавт на далекой планете Океании. Добыча ресурсов, схватки с пиратами и хищниками, интриги, противостояние криминалу, работа на службу безопасности. Да, весело ему теперь приходится, ничего не скажешь. Но кто скажет, что второй шанс на жизнь этого не стоит?

Константин Георгиевич Калбазов , Константин Георгиевич Калбазов (Калбанов) , Константин Георгиевич Калбанов

Фантастика / Космическая фантастика / Научная Фантастика / Попаданцы
Карта времени
Карта времени

Роман испанского писателя Феликса Пальмы «Карта времени» можно назвать историческим, приключенческим или научно-фантастическим — и любое из этих определений будет верным. Действие происходит в Лондоне конца XIX века, в эпоху, когда важнейшие научные открытия заставляют людей поверить, что они способны достичь невозможного — скажем, путешествовать во времени. Кто-то желал посетить будущее, а кто-то, наоборот, — побывать в прошлом, и не только побывать, но и изменить его. Но можно ли изменить прошлое? Можно ли переписать Историю? Над этими вопросами приходится задуматься писателю Г.-Дж. Уэллсу, когда он попадает в совершенно невероятную ситуацию, достойную сюжетов его собственных фантастических сочинений.Роман «Карта времени», удостоенный в Испании премии «Атенео де Севилья», уже вышел в США, Англии, Японии, Франции, Австралии, Норвегии, Италии и других странах. В Германии по итогам читательского голосования он занял второе место в списке лучших книг 2010 года.

Феликс Х. Пальма

Фантастика / Приключения / Социально-психологическая фантастика / Исторические приключения / Научная Фантастика