"Robert A. Heinlein - A tenderfoot in space (original version)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

were trustworthy. Not to mention obedient. What got into you, son?
Are you scared of the Big Jump? ‘A Scout is Brave.’ That doesn’t
mean you don’t have to be scared—everybody is at times. ‘Brave’
simply means you don’t run even if you are scared.”
“I’m not scared,” Charlie said stubbornly. “I want to go to Venus.”
“Then why run away when your family is about to leave?”



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Nixie felt such a burst of warm happy-sadness from Charlie that he
licked his hand. “Because Nixie can’t go!”
“Oh.” The judge looked at boy and dog. “I’m sorry, son. That problem
is beyond my jurisdiction.” He drummed his desk top. “Charlie. . . will
you promise, Scout’s honor, not to run away again until your parents
show up?”
“Uh . . . yes, sir.”
“Okay. Joe, take them to my place. Tell my wife she had better see
how recently they’ve had anything to eat.”
The trip home was long. Nixie enjoyed it, even though Charlie’s father
was happy-angry and his mother was happy-sad and Charlie himself
was happy-sad-worried. When Nixie was home he checked quickly
through each room, making sure that all was in order and that there
were no new smells. Then he returned to Charlie.
The feelings had changed. Mr. Vaughn was angry, Mrs. Vaughn was
sad, Charlie himself gave out such bitter stubbornness that Nixie
went to him, jumped onto his lap, and tried to lick his face. Charlie
settled Nixie beside him, started digging fingers into the loose skin
back of Nixie’s neck. Nixie quieted at once, satisfied that he and his
boy could face together whatever it was—but it distressed him that
the other two were not happy. Charlie belonged to him; they
belonged to Charlie; things were better when they were happy, too.
Mr. Vaughn said, “Go to bed, young man, and sleep on it. I’ll speak
with you again tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir. Good night, sir.”
“Kiss your mother goodnight. One thing more—Do I need to lock
doors to be sure you will be here in the morning?”
“No, sir.”
Nixie got on the foot of the bed as usual, tromped out a space, laid
his tail over his nose, and started to go to sleep. But his boy was not
sleeping; his sadness was taking the distressing form of heaves and
sobs. So Nixie got up, went to the other end of the bed and licked
away tears—then let himself be pulled into Charlie’s arms and tears
applied directly to his neck. It was not comfortable and too hot,
besides being taboo. But it was worth enduring as Charlie started to
quiet down, presently went to sleep.


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 Nixie waited, gave him a lick on the face to check his sleeping,