"Boris and Arkady Strugatsky. The snail on the slope" - читать интересную книгу автора

moonlight. Pepper could make out his pale face and
staring eyes.
"What do you want?" whispered Pepper. "You have to vacate," the man
whispered in return.
It's only the warden, thought Pepper, relieved. "Why vacate?" he asked
loudly, raising himself on his elbow. "Vacate what?"
"The hotel is overbooked, you'll have to vacate the room."
Pepper glanced around the room in confusion. Everything was as it had
been, the other three bunks were empty as before.
"You needn't stare," said the warden. "We know the situation. In any
case the sheets on your bed have to be changed and sent to the laundry. You
won't be washing them yourself, not brought up to. . . ." Pepper understood.
The warden was very frightened and was being rude to keep his spirits up. He
was in that state where one touch and he would cry out, squeal, twitch
convulsively, call for help.
"Come on, come on," said the warden and pulled the pillow from beneath
Pepper's head in a sort of weird impatience. "Sheets, I said. . . ."
"Look, what is this," said Pepper. "Does it have to be now? In the
night?" "Urgent."
"Good God," said Pepper, "you're off your head. Well, all right. . . .
You collect the sheets, I'll get by. I've only got this one night left."
He slid from the bunk onto the chilly floor and began stripping the
pillowcase off. The warden, as if frozen to the spot, followed his movements
with bulging eyes. His lips quivered.
"Repairs," he said finally. "Repairs got to be done. All the
wallpaper's peeling off, the ceiling's cracked, the floors need re-laying. .
. ." His voice took on a firmer note. "So you've got to vacate in any case.
We're starting repairs right away here."
"Repairs?"
"Repairs. Look at that wallpaper. The workmen will be here directly."
"What, now?"
"Right now. Why wait? The ceiling's full of cracks. Just take a look."
Pepper began to shiver. He left the pillowcase and picked up his
shorts.
"What's the time?" he asked.
"Well after twelve," said the warden, again whispering, and, forsome
reason, glancing around.
"Where on earth shall I go?" said Pepper, pausing with one leg in his
shorts. "You'll have to fix me up. Another room. ..."
"Full up. And where it isn't, repairs are under way."
"In the duty room, then."
"Full up."
Pepper stared at the moon in despair.
"Well, the storeroom will do," he said. "The storeroom, the laundry,
the isolation ward. I've only got six more hours to sleep. Or maybe you can
fix me up in your place. . . ."
The warden began rushing about the room. He ran between the bunks,
barefoot, white, and terrible as a specter. Then he stopped and groaned:
"What a business, eh? I'm a civilized man as well, graduate of two
colleges, I'm not a savage or anything. ... I know it all. But it's