"Jean Marie Stine - Lost Stars Forgotten Sci-Fi" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stine Jean Marie)

metallic tunic, the glacial gray eyes.
"Mrs. Melinda Adams?" Even the voice was frigid.
"Y-Yes. Why?"
"Major Nord, Galactic Security." The little man bowed. "You were visited early this
morning by one Porteous." He spoke the name with a certain disgust. "He left a
neural distorter here. Correct?"
Melinda's nod was tremulous. Major Nord came quietly into the living room, shut the
door behind him. "My apologies, madam, for the intrusion. Porteous mistook your
world for a Class IV culture, instead of a Class VII. Here –" He handed her the
crumpled dollar bill. "You may check the serial number. The distorter, please."
Melinda shrunk limply onto the sofa. "I don't understand," she said painfully. "Was
he a thief?"
"He was–careless about his spatial coordinates." Major Nord's teeth showed in the
faintest of smiles. "He has been corrected. Where is it?"
"Now look," said Melinda with some asperity. "That thing's kept Harry junior quiet
all day. I bought it in good faith, and it's not my fault–say, have you got a warrant?"
"Madam," said the Major with dignity, "I dislike violating local tabus, but must I
explain the impact of a neural distorter on a backwater culture? What if your
Neanderthal had been given atomic blasters? Where would you have been today?
Swinging through trees, no doubt. What if your Hitler had force-fields?" He exhaled.
"Where is your son?"
In the nursery, Harry junior was contentedly playing with his blocks. The prism lay
glinting in the comer.
Major Nord picked it up carefully, scrutinized Harry junior. His voice was very soft.
"You said he was-playing with it?"
Some vestigial maternal instinct prompted Melinda to shake her head vigorously. The
little man stared hard at Harry junior, who began whimpering. Trembling, Melinda
scooped up Harry junior.
"Is that all you have to do–run around frightening women and children? Take your
old distorter and get out. Leave decent people alone!"
Major Nord frowned. If only he could be sure. He peered stonily at Harry junior,
murmured, "Definite egomania. It doesn't seem to have affected him. Strange."
"Do you want me to scream?" Melinda demanded.
Major Nord sighed. He bowed to Melinda, went out, closed the door, touched a tiny
stud on his tunic, and vanished.
"The manners of some people," Melinda said to Harry junior. She was relieved that
the Major had not asked for the green vial.
Harry junior also looked relieved, although for quite a different reason.
Big Harry arrived home a little after eleven. There were small worry creases about his
mouth and forehead, and the leaden cast of defeat in his eyes. He went into the
bedroom and Melinda sleepily told him about the little man working his way through
college by peddling silly goods, and about that rude cop named Nord, and Harry
said that was simply astonishing and Melinda said, "Harry, you had a drink!"
"I had two drinks," Harry told her owlishly. "You married a failure, dear. Part of the
experimental model vaporized, wooosh, just like that. On paper it looked so good –"
Melinda had heard it all before. She asked him to see if Harry Junior was covered,
and Big Harry went unsteadily into the nursery, sat down by his son's crib.
"Poor little guy," he mused. "Your old man's a bum, a useless tinker. He thought he
could send Man to the stars on a string of helium nucleii. Oh, he was smart. Thought
of everything. Auxiliary jets to kick off the negative charge, bigger mercury vapor