"Arkady and Boris Strugatsky. Roadside Picnic (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

dried up.
"What's with you and my back?" he asked.
I kicked him in his bare can and dove into my stall and locked the
door. Damn my nerves. I was seeing things there, and now I was seeing them
here. The hell with it all! I'd get tanked up tonight. I'd really like to
beat Richard, that's what I'd like. That bum can really play cards. Can't
beat him with any hand. I tried reshuffling, even blessing them under the
table.
"Kirill," I shouted. "Are you going to the Borscht tonight?"
"It's not the 'Borscht,' it's pronounced 'Borshch.' How many times do I
have to tell you."
"Skip it. It's spelled B-O-R-S-C-H-T Don't bug us with your customs.
Are you going or not? I'd love to beat Richard."
"Oh, I don't know, Red. You simple soul, you don't understand what it
is we've brought back."
"And I suppose you do?"
"Well, I don't either. That's true. But now for the First time we know
what the empties are for, and if my bright idea works, I'll write a
monograph. I'll dedicate it to you personally: To Redrick Schuhart, honored
stalker, with respect and gratitude."
"And they'll put me away for two years."
"But you'll go down in science. That's what they'll call it,
'Schuhart's jar.' Like the sound of it?"
While we were bulling, I dressed. put the empty Bask in my pocket,
counted my money, and left.
"Good luck, you complicated soul."
He didn't answer. The water was making a lot of noise.
There was Tender in person in the corridor. Red and puffed up like a
turkey. Surrounded by coworkers, reporters, and 3 couple of sergeants (fresh
from eating and picking their teeth), he was babbling on and on. "The
technology that we command," he blathered, "al- most completely guarantees
success and safety." Then he saw me and dried up a bit. He smiled and made
little waving motions with his hand. Well, I'd better split, I thought. I
made for the door, but they caught me. I heard footsteps behind me.
"Mr. Schuhart! Mr. Schuhart! A few words about the garage!"
"No comment." I broke into a run. But there was no getting away.
There was one with a mike on my right, and another with a camera on my
left.
"Did you see anything strange in the garage. Just two words!"
"No comment!" I said, trying to keep the back of my head to the camera.
"It's just a garage."
"Thank you. How do you feel about turboplatforms?"
"Most wonderful." I started edging toward the john.
"What do you think about the Visitation?"
"Ask the scientists," I said, and slid behind the bathroom door.
I could hear them scratching at the door. So I called out: "I heartily
recommend that you ask Mr. Tender how his nose came to look like a beet.
He's too modest to bring it up, but that was our most interesting adventure
there."
They shot down the corridor. Faster than racehorses. I waited a minute.