"Robert A. Heinlein - Between Planets" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

wrote regularly, every ship-but radiograms, other than Christmas and birthday
greetings, were almost unheard of.
"I'll hurry, sir."
"Right!" Mr. Reeves switched off. Don turned Lazy and headed back down the
trail. Lazy seemed disappointed and looked back accusingly.
As it turned out, they were only a half-mile from the school when the ranch
copter spotted them. Don waved it off and took Lazy on in himself. Despite his
curiosity he delayed to wipe down the pony and water it before he went in. Mr.
Reeves was waiting in his office and motioned for him to come in. He handed
Don the message.
It read: DEAR SON, PASSAGE RESERVED FOR YOU VALKYRIE CIRCUM-TERRA TWELVE APRIL
LOVE MOTHER AND DAD.
Don blinked at it, having trouble taking in the simple facts. "But that's
right away"
"Yes. You weren't expecting it?"
Don thought it over. He had halfway expected to go home-if one could call it
going home when he had never set foot on Mars-at the end of the school year.
If they had arranged his passage for the Vanderdecken three months from
now..."Uh, not exactly. I can't figure out why they would send for me before
the end of the term."
Mr. Reeves fitted his fingertips carefully together. "I'd say that it was
obvious."
Don looked startled. "You mean? Mr. Reeves, you don't really think there is
going to be trouble, do you?"
The headmaster answered gravely, "Don, I'm not a prophet. But it is my guess
that your parents are sufficiently worried that they want you out of a
potential war zone as quickly as possible."
He was still having trouble readjusting. Wars were something you studied, not
something that actually happened. Of course his class in contemporary history
had kept track of the current crisis in colonial affairs, but, even so, it had
seemed something far away, even for one as widely traveled as himself-a matter
for diplomats and politicians, not something real.
"Look, Mr. Reeves, they may be jumpy but I'm not. I'd like to send a radio
telling them that I'll be along on the next ship, as soon as school is out."
Mr. Reeves shook his head. "No. I can't let you go against your parents'
explicit instructions. In the second place, ah -- " The headmaster seemed to
have difficulty in choosing his words. " -- that is to say, Donald, in the
event of war, you might find your position here, shall we call it,
uncomfortable?"
A bleak wind seemed to have found its way into the office. Don felt lonely and
older than he should feel. "Why?" he asked gruffly.
Mr. Reeves studied his fingernails. "Are you quite sure where your loyalties
lie?" he said slowly.
Don forced himself to think about it. His father had been born on Earth; his
mother was a second-generation Venus colonial. But neither planet was truly
their home; they had met and married on Luna and had pursued their researches
in planetology in many sectors of the solar system. Don himself had been born
out in space and his birth certificate, issued by the Federation, had left the
question of his nationality open. He could claim dual citizenship by parental
derivation. He did not think of himself as a Venus colonial; it had been so