"Mack Reynolds - Ability Quotient" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

with two rather large pill bottles, one brown, one green. He held them up
to the light, for some reason or other, as if to check the contents, though
as far as Bert could see, both the bottles were opaque.

Marsh said with satisfaction, "The brown ones will turn you on, the
green ones, off." He began to unscrew the top of the brown bottle.

"Now wait a minute. Turn me on what?"

"You'll see."

"The hell I will. I tried charas once, in India, and I can stand without
being turned on."

The other ignored him and extended a chubby hand, complete with
long-sized brown pill. Bert looked at it. The hand shoved further forward.

Hell, he had already taken the shot. What was the point in chickening
out at this mid-point? He took it. Marsh went over to the beautiful
antique bar and brought back a glass of water.

He said, extending the glass, "Never take more than one of these at a
time. Nor the green ones either, for that matter?"
 "What happens if I take more than one at a time?"

"You'll get deathly sick. I believe the military term is, you toss your
cookies."

"Maybe in your day in the military, not in mine," Bert grumbled, but he
tossed back the pill and washed it down. "Now what?"

"Now you begin your studies."

Bert looked around the room, not being able to restrain his approval.
"So this is where I do my homework, eh?"

"This is where you do all your work."

It was time to scowl again. "How do you mean? How about my classes,
my lectures, my lab work and so on?"

"Some lab work we might have, later on. You'll have special tutors. Also,
possibly a few lectures, though you can get most of these on tape, of
course, if not all. But no classes."

Bert Alshuler stared at him. "No classes? Are you completely around
the bend? The whole idea is that the computers decide what courses I'm to
take."

"Courses, not classes. Now if you'll just come over here." Marsh led the