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

armchair.
"No thank you, I don't smoke."
Mr. Lemchen nodded as though his worst suspicions had been confirmed,
pressed his fingertips together in a steeple in front of his face, and
carefully examined them for a while.
"I suppose that we won't be discussing the legal affairs of the
Mitsubishi Denshi Company," he finally said.
That was a joke. Richard Noonan smiled readily.
"As you like!"
It was devilishly uncomfortable on the desk, and his feet did not reach
the floor.
"I'm sorry to tell you, Richard, that your report created an extremely
favorable impression upstairs."
"Hmm," Noonan mumbled. Here it comes, he thought.
"They were even going to recommend you for a decoration," Mr. Lemchen
continued. "However, I talked them into waiting on it. And I was right." He
tore himself away from contemplating the pattern of the ten fingers and
looked up at Noonan. "You ask why I behaved in such a cautious manner?"
"You probably had some justification," Noonan said in a dull tone.
"Yes, I had. What are the results of your report, Richard? The
Metropole gang is liquidated. Through your efforts. The Green Flower gang
was apprehended red-handed. Brilliant work. Also yours. Quasimodo, the
Wandering Musicians, and all the other gangs, I don't remember the names,
disbanded because they knew the jig was up and they would be taken any day.
All this really did happen, it's all been verified by other sources. The
battlefield was cleared. Your victory, Richard. The enemy retreated in
disarray, suffering heavy losses. Have I given an accurate account?"
"In any case," Noonan said carefully, "during the last three months the
Bow of materials from the Zone through Harmont has stopped. At least
according to my information."
"The enemy has retreated, is that not so?"
"Well, if you insist on the metaphor, yes."
"No! The point is that this enemy never retreats. I know that for sure.
In rushing a victory report, Richard, you have demonstrated your lack of
maturity. That is why I suggested they hold off rewarding you immediately."
Go blow, you and your awards, thought Noonan, swinging his foot and
glumly watching his shiny toe. Stick your awards in the cobwebs in the
attic! And all I need is a little didacticism from you. I know who I'm
dealing with without your lectures. Don't tell me about the enemy. Just tell
me straight out--when, where, and how I messed up, what those bastards
managed to steal, where and how they found cracks and without the bullshit,
I'm no raw recruit, I'm over half a century old and I'm not sitting here for
the sake of your stupid decorations and orders.
"What have you heard about the Golden Ball?" Mr. Lemchen suddenly
asked.
God, what does the Golden Ball have to do with all this, Noonan thought
in irritation. I wish you and your indirect manner would go to hell.
"The Golden Ball is a legend," he reported in a dull voice. "A mythical
artifact located in the Zone in the shape and form of a gold ball that
grants human wishes."