"David Feintuch - Seafort 04 - Fisherman's Hope" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feintuch David)

"An instrument of... electronics." He and I both knew his unspoken thought. An instrument of Satan, as all idle amusements.

"And of music, Mr. Seafort. There isn't much the Welsh Philharmonic can play that we couldn't re-create on it."

"By pushing buttons." But Father's tone was agreeable, as he mopped at his soup with the hot bread he'd pulled from the oven an hour
before.

Jason's lean face lit with the grin I cherished. "It's all in knowing what buttons to push, sir."

Father looked to me, shaking his head as if in exasperation. Recklessly, I grinned back; Jason had that effect on me. He was courteous
to Father, even respected him in a way, without taking Father's manner seriously. At first I'd been scandalized, then put off, but now I
knew it was part of Jason's singular view of the world.

Father asked, "You'll be in Third?" Two conversational gambits in an evening. He was treating Jason as an adult, and I was grateful.

"Yes, sir. This year I'm taking Engineering for electlves,"

"Why?"

"I like to build things, or fix them."

"A erty and a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven,"

Jason looked confused. I explained, "He means the tower of Babel, Genesis Nine,"

Father swung to me In rebuke. Eleven. Don't pretend to learning you lack, Nicholas,"

"I'm sorry, sir,"

"Nieky could sign up for half days, Mr, Seafort, We could work on projects together."

Father raised an eyebrow, "Nicholas learns best at home, where his idleness is held in check." That was like Father, to discuss my
faults in front of anyone, as if I had no feelings. But to my surprise he added, "Anyway, Nicholas won't be at your school next year. I
imagine he'll be at Academy." I was astonished. Father had never once hinted he thought I had a chance of being accepted.

"Of course," Jason said quickly. "I just meant if he didn't - I mean, I forgot."

Two days later I was on my knees pulling the stubborn weeds from our garden, knowing Father's vigilant eye would judge my work, and
that my chance of parole on Saturday depended on his approval. Jason had bought us tickets to the football game with the Irish, though I
hadn't told Father yet.

A shadow fell across the black dirt. I looked up, a bead of sweat trickling. "I'm not done yet, sir. I'll catch the rest of that row, after."

2
He waved it away. The post is here."

The post?" Why would he interrupt my chores for- "It came?" I was on my feet. "What does it say?"

"I don't know. It's yours to open,"