"Robert Sheckley. The Day The Aliens Came (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

Better than getting drunk! Step up, step up and kill a woman!"
Simon asked on of the girls, "Do you stay dead when they kill you?"
"Don't be stupid," the girl said.
"But the shock - "
She shrugged her shoulders. "I could do worse."
Simon was about to ask how she could do worse, when the manager leaned over the
counter, speaking confidentially.
"Look, buddy. Look what I got here."
Simon glanced over the counter, and saw a compact sub-machine gun.
"For a ridiculously low price," the manager said, "I'll let you use the tommy.
You can spray the whole place, shoot down the fixtures, rip up the walls. This
drives a .45 slug, buddy, and it kicks like a mule. You really know you're
firing when you fire the tommy."
"I am not interested," Simon said sternly.
"I've got a grenade or two," the manager said. "Fragmentation, of course. You
could really-"
"No!"
"For a price," the manager said, "you can shoot me, too, if that's how your
tastes run, although I wouldn't have guessed it. What do you say?"
"No! Never! This is horrible!"
The manager looked at him blankly. "Not in the mood now? OK. I'm open twenty-
four hours a day. See you later, sport."
"Never!" Simon said, walking away.
"Be expecting you, lover!" one of the women called after him.

Simon went to the refreshment stand and ordered a small glass of coca-cola. He
found that his hands were shaking. With an effort he steadied them, and sipped
his drink. He reminded himself that he must not judge Earth by his own
standards. If people on Earth enjoyed killing people, and the victims didn't
mind being killed, why should anyone object?
Or should they?
He was pondering this when a voice at his elbow said, "Hey, bub."
Simon turned and saw a wizened, furtive-faced little man in an oversize raincoat
standing beside him.
"Out-of-towner?" the little man asked.
"I am," Simon said. "How did you know?"
"The shoes. I always look at the shoes. How do you like our little planet?"
"It's - confusing," Simon said carefully. "I mean I didn't expect - well -"
"Of course", the little man said. "You're an idealist. One look at your honest
face tells me that, my friend. You've come to Earth for a definite purpose. Am I
right?"
Simon nodded. The little man said, "I know your purpose, my friend. You're
looking for a war that will make the world safe from something, and you've come
to the right place. We have six major wars running at all times, and there's
never any waiting for an important position in any of them."
"Sorry, but - "
"Right at this moment," the little man said impressively, "the downtrodden
workers of Peru are engaged in a desperate struggle against a corrupt and
decadent monarchy. One more man could swing the contest! You, my friend, could
be that man! You could guarantee the socialist victory!"