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

Jim Hawkins, hands on hips, stood in the middle of the living room and
stared about.

"How in the devil did you get in here?" he demanded, "What're you
doing here?"
 His war time companion led the way to the bar. "I had to promise to
keep it all secret before I fell into this deal. I'm not paying for it. It's a
special arrangement with one of the professors."

Jim shook his head in admiration. "Kind of babysitting, eh? The old
boy wants kind of a guard in a place like this while he's gone."

"Not exactly," Bert told him, unhappy at being less than candid with
his best friend. "Anyway, how about a belt?"

"Holy smokes, he even lets you drink his liquor?"

"That's right," Bert said, reaching his hand out for the bottle of stone
age Scotch which had laid him low the day before. "I hate to use you for
the royal taster, old buddy, but how about a slug of this?"

"Why not?" Jim leered.

"Because it floored me yesterday," Bert said, pouring the other a hefty
amount.

The other chuckled amusement. "You never could hold your booze, old
buddy."

"I warned you."

Bert's lanky companion knocked the drink back with nonchalant ease,
"Man," he said, "that's sippin' whiskey."

Bottle in hand, Bert watched him. Nothing happened. Bert sighed and
filled the other's glass again and poured a drink for himself.

He motioned to the bar and said, "Make yourself at home, Jim.
Meanwhile, lend me your Identity Card."

"What?"

"Your Identity Card. I told you mine was fouled up. I've got a priority
One and I want yours to order up a book or so that I need for something
I'm working on."

"It's against the law to lend your Identity Card."
 Bert said, "Since when did you give a damn about the law—particularly
where I'm concerned, old buddy?"