"Henry Kuttner - Clash by Night (SS Collection) UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kuttner Henry)

'No. I vitamized. Feel pretty good.' Most bars had a vitamizing chamber to nullify the effects of too much stimulant. Scott was, in fact, feeling fresh and keenly alert. He was wondering how to broach the subject of Ilene to Jeana.
She saved him the trouble.
'If it's a girl, Brian, just take it easy. No use doing anything till this war's over. How long will it take?'
'Oh, not long. A week at most. One battle may settle it, you know. The girl-'
'She's not a Keep girl.'
'Yes.'
Jeana looked up, startled. 'You're crazy.'
'I started to tell you,' Scott said impatiently. 'It isn't just - her. I'm sick of the Doones. I'm going to quit.'
'Hm-m-m. Like that?'
'Like that.'
Jeana shook her head. 'Keep women aren't tough.'
'They don't need to be. Their men aren't soldiers.'
'Have it your own way. I'll wait till you get back. Maybe I've got a hunch. You see, Brian, we've been together for five years. We fit. Not because of anything like philosophy or psychology- it's a lot more personal. It's just us. As man and woman, we get along comfortably. There's love, too. Those close emotional feelings are more important, really, than the long view. You can get excited about futures, but you can't live them.'
Scott shrugged. 'Could be I'm starting to forget about futures. Concentrating on Brian Scott.'
'More coffee . . . there. Well, for five years now I've gone
with you from Keep to Keep, waiting every time you went off to war, wondering if you'd come back, knowing that I was just a part of your life, but - I sometimes thought - the most important part. Soldiering's seventy-five per cent. I'm the other quarter. I think you need that quarter - you need the whole thing, in that proportion, actually. You could find another woman, but she'd have to be willing to take twenty-five per cent.'
Scott didn't answer. Jeana blew smoke through her nostrils.
'O.K., Brian. I'll wait.'
'It isn't the girl so much. She happens to fit into the pattern of what I want. You-'
'I'd never be able to fit that pattern,' Jeana said softly. 'The Free Companions need women who are willing to be soldiers' wives. Free-wives, if you like. Chiefly it's a matter of not being too demanding. But there are other things. No, Brian. Even if you wanted that, I couldn't make myself over into one of the Keep people. It wouldn't be me. I wouldn't respect myself, living a life that'd be false to me; and you wouldn't like me that way either. I couldn't and wouldn't change. I'll have to stay as I am. A soldier's wife. As long as you're a Dooneman, you'll need me. But if you change-' She didn't finish.
Scott lit a cigarette, scowling. 'It's hard to know, exactly.'
'I may not understand you, but I don't ask questions and I don't try to change you. As long as you want that, you can have it from me. I've nothing else to offer you. It's enough for a Free Companion. It's not enough - or too much - for a Keep-dweller.'
Til miss you,' he said.
'That'll depend, too. I'll miss you.' Under the table her fingers writhed together, but her face did not change. 'It's getting late. Here, let me check your chronometer.' Jeana leaned across the table, lifted Scott's wrist, and compared his watch with the central-time clock on the wall. 'O.K. On your way, soldier.'
Scott stood up, tightening his belt. He bent to kiss Jeana,
and, though she began to turn her face away, after a moment she raised her lips to his.
They didn't speak. Scott went out quickly, and the girl sat motionless, the cigarette smouldering out unheeded between her fingers. Somehow it did not matter so much, now, that Brian was leaving her for another woman and another life. As always, the one thing of real importance was that he was going into danger.
Guard him from harm, she thought, not knowing that she was praying. Guard him from harm!
And now there would be silence, and waiting. That, at least, had not changed. Her eyes turned to the clock.
Already the minutes were longer.
HI
'E's the kind of a giddy harumfrodite - soldier an' sailor too!
Kipling
Commander Bienne was superintending the embarkation of the last Doonemen when Scott arrived at headquarters. He saluted the captain briskly, apparently untired by his night's work of handling the transportation routine.
'All checked, sir.'
Scott nodded. 'Good. Is Cine Rhys here?'
'He just arrived.' Bienne nodded toward a door-curtain. As Scott moved away, the other followed.
'What's up, commander?'
Bienne pitched his voice low. 'Bronson's laid up with endemic fever.' He forgot to say 'sir.' 'He was to handle the left wing of the fleet. I'd appreciate that job.'
Til see if I can do it.'
Bienne's lips tightened, but he said nothing more. He turned back to his men, and Scott went on into the cinc's office. Rhys was at the telaudio. He looked up, his eyes narrowed.
'Morning, captain. I've just heard from Mendez.'
'Yes, sir?'
'He's still holding out for a fifty per cent cut on the korium ransom from Virginia Keep. You'll have to see him. Try and get the Mob for less than fifty if you can. Telaudio me from Mendez's fort.'
'Check, sir.'
'Another thing. Bronson's in sick bay.'
'I heard that. If I may suggest Commander Bienne to take his place at left-wing command-'
But Cine Rhys raised his hand. 'Not this time. We can't afford individualism. The commander tried to play a lone hand in the last war. You know we can't risk it till he's back in line - thinking of the Doones instead of Fredric Bienne.'
'He's a good man, sir. A fine strategist.'
'But not yet a good integrating factor. Perhaps next time. Put Commander Geer on the left wing. Keep Bienne with you. He needs discipline. And - take a flitterboat to Mendez.'