"Mack Reynolds - Romp" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

"I didn't say that. I do a lot of people a lot of favors and then maybe they do me one. And, like I say,
I belong to some of these gambling clubs."
"And always win?"
Rosy shrugged hugely. "They don't call me Rosy, for nothing. I'm pretty lucky. Listen, I got some
business needs taking care of. Do you really have anything on me, or are you just wasting both our time?"
Willard Rhuling came to his feet with a sigh. He looked down into his book again. "General Aptitude I.Q.
136," he read. He looked up at the other. "And here you are, a full-time bum."
Rosy stood, too, scowling. "Listen," he said, "I don't have to take that from you. You got my
category. I'm a pretzel bender. What can I do? The job's been automated out of existence."
"You can always switch categories, work hard and possibly run yourself up a couple of castes."
Rosy sneered. "Sure, that's the theory. And maybe it sounds good to somebody like you. You're
probably a Mid-Middle, at least. And born into your caste, you've got it made. But when you're a lower,
about the only category you can switch to that you've got a chance in is Military, or Religion, and I'm not
stupid enough to go into one, and not phony enough for the other."
Rhuling looked at him speculatively. "We'll see just how stupid and phony you are, Porras. I have a
sneaking suspicion that you're going to wind up in a Psychotherapy Institute, Citizen."
"Yeah? Listen, my stute pal, I got a lot of friends, understand? You'll have a time getting me into a
pressure cooker."
"We'll see," the DS man said grimly. He turned and started for the door. "See you later, Rosy."
Rosy Porras scowled after him. It didn't do a man any good to have the DS on his tail. He wondered
uncomfortably what he had done to draw their attention. In this age, a grifter's first need was to remain
inconspicuous.

Rosy Porras was already late but he was taking no chances. He drove his hovercar into the
downtown area and into the heaviest of traffic and then spent the next twenty minutes doubling and
doubling back still again. All he needed was for some snooper such as Rhuling to be shadowing him.
Evidently, he was clear. He finally left the car in the parking cellars of a large hotel and made his way
to one of the popular auto-bars above. He found an empty booth and dialed a drink, putting his credit
card on the receipt screen. This was one of the few things he had to use his own skimpy credits for. He
sipped the drink slowly and checked the occupants of the other tables unobtrusively.
When he was convinced of their innocence, he let his finger thump twice on the table and Pop Rasch
and Marvin Zogbaum came over and sat down with him.
Pop Rasch, a heavy-set, gray-faced man with obvious false teeth, said sourly, "Where in Zen you
been? We were about to fold the whole job."
Rosy said, "A snooper from the DS police turned up and grilled me at the apartment."
Pop said, "Oh, oh."
Porras waved a hand negatively. "It was nothing. Just routine."
"How'd he know where to find you?"
"I suppose they got ways. Anyway, I guess I'd better move on. We been working this town too hard
anyway. Maybe I'll go out to the West Coast."
Marvin Zogbaum, a clerkish looking type and out of setting with these two, said nervously, "Well, I
suppose then we'd better call off tonight's, ah, romp."
"Romp," Rosy snorted at him. "You been watching those telly detective shows? You oughta stick to
the fracases, Marv." His tone held deprecation.
Zogbaum said defensively, "I'll watch whatever I please, Porras."
"O.K., O.K.," Pop Rasch said. "Let's not get into a silly argument. That's just what we need right in
the middle of a job. What'd you say, Rosy? Should we call it all off?"
Rosy Porras grumbled. "Can't afford to now. We need a good taw, in case of emergencies."
Mary Zogbaum said, still miffed, "Maybe you do, but I work in my category. I've got a job and I'm
clean."