"Mack Reynolds - After Utopia" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

as a result of his little curse-on-both-your-houses speech,
word would get around that he, Tracy Cogswell, had
rather strong political opinions, and that was the last
thing he wanted.
He went out into his tiny kitchen and poured himself
still another drink. Cogswell wasn’t generally much for
belting the bottle, but at the moment he felt the need for
another drink. He brought his glass back to the living
room and sat it on the coffee table next to his reading
chair.
He picked up the Leibnecht pamphlet and thumbed
through the pages idly. He was still in no mood for
concentration.
Something alien flickered in his eyes, and he scowled
and looked up at the wall opposite. There seemed to be
some sort of light reflection. No, that wasn’t the word.
Cogswell frowned, trying to figure out what it could be.
Some reflection, or something, from somewhere. But
where? Anything coming through the window that
opened onto Rue Dr. Fumey would hardly…
He squinted at the vague flickering. What was it that
it reminded him of? Why, a Fourth of July pin wheel, like
they used to have when he was a kid in Cincinnati. One
of the little penny ones.
His mind went back to Cincinnati.
The big swimming pool where the adults would throw
in pennies and you’d dive for them. You could get enough
to go to the movies if you worked at it long enough. Ten
cents was the price of a kid’s admission.
The movies in Cincinnati, back in the 1920s. He’d been
a real fan. Lon Chaney, Hoot Gibson, Rin-Tin-Tin, Tom
Mix, Our Gang.
The pin wheel was larger and turning faster. What in
the world could it be? Quite an optical illusion. He knew
that if he got up and walked over to it, either it would
fade away or he would be able to determine what caused
it. He felt too lazy to make the effort.
It still seemed to be growing in size.
That Pernod he’d had at Paul Lund’s had hit him
harder than he’d expected. Evidently he’d had too little
dinner, and the alcohol had free range.
Of a sudden, Tracy Cogswell shook his head. He was
getting drowsy and that wasn’t right. That damned
spinning was having hypnotic effect on him. He was
going to have to…
Part of him backed away in astonishment. Why, he
was actually, in a strange manner, under. Asleep, though
still awake, from the effects of the spinning and… and
something else. He didn’t know what else. Good Jesus
Christ, certainly Paul hadn’t put something in his drink.