"Robert A. Heinlein - To Sail Beyond the Sunset" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

five.’
‚It says that you are on duty until I relieve you, but that overtime rate starts at
five.’
‚There were no patients here and I was changing into my festival costume.
Wait till you ser it, Boss! It’d make a priest blush.’
‚I doubt it. We do have a patient and I need your help.’
‚Okay, okay! I’ll get back into my Florence Nightingale duds.’
‚Don’t bother; it would just waste time. Mrs Long! Come in, please, and take
off your clothes.’
‚Yes, sir.’ I came in at once, while peeling off that scrounged caftan. I could
see what he was doing: a prudent male doctor has a chaperone when
examining a female patient; that’s a universal. A multi-universal. If the
circumstances happen to supply a chaperone in her skin, so much the better;
there need be no time wasted on „angel robes“ and other such nonsense.
Having helped my father and having stood years of watches in the
rejuvenation clinic at Boondock and in the associated hospital, I understood
the protocol invoked; a nurse in Boondock wears clothes only when the job
requires it. Seldom, that is, as the patient is usually not clothed. ‚But it’s not
„Mrs Long“, Doctor. I am usually called „Maureen“.’
‚“Maureen“ it is. This is Dagmar. Roast, meet Alice; Alice, meet Roast. And
Pixel, too, Dagmar. He’s the one with the short legs.’
‚Howdy, Maureen. Hi, Pixel.’
‚Mee-ow.’
‚Hi, Dagmar. Sorry to keep you late.’
‚De nada, ducks.’
‚Dagmar, either I am out of my skull, or Maureen is. Which is it?’
‚Couldn’t it be both? I’ve had my doubts about you for a long time, Boss.’
‚Understandable. But she really does seem to have lost a chunk of her
memory. At least. Plus possible hallucinations. You’ve studied materia
medica much more recently than I have; if someone wanted to cause a few
hours temporary amnesia, what drug would he choose?’
‚Huh? Don’t give me your barefoot boy act. Alcohol, of course. But it might be
almost anything, the way the kids nowadays eat, drink, snort, smoke, or
shoot anything that doesn’t shoot back.’
‚Not alcohol. Enough alcohol to do that produces a horrible hangover, with
halitosis, twitches and shakes, and bloodshot eyes. But look at her - clear
eyes, healthy as a horse, and innocent as a pup in the clean laundry. Pixel!
Stay out of that! So what do we look for?’
‚I dunno; let’s operate and find out. Urine sample. Blood sample. Saliva, too?’
‚Certainly. And sweat, if you can find enough:
‚Vaginal specimen?’
‚Yes.’
‚Wait,’ I objected. ‚If you intend to poke around inside me, I want a chance to
douche and wash:
‚Not bleedin’ likely, ducks,’ Dagmar answered gently. ‚What we need is
whatever is in there now... not after you’ve washed your sins away. Don’t
argue; I wouldn’t want to break your arm:
I shut up. I do indeed want to smell good, or not smell at all, when being
examined. But as a doctor’s daughter (and a therapist myself) I knew that
what Dagmar said made sense... since they were looking for drugs. I didn’t