"Arkady and Boris Strugatsky. Probationers (engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

- Listen, Joyce, - said Ivan. - The Russian boy is asking, what will
you do when you become rich?
Joyce watched Yura closely for some time.
- Fair enough, - said he. - I know what answer the boy is waiting for.
Therefore I will ask. The boy will grow up and become a mature man. All his
life he will engage in... how do you say it... interesting work. But one
day, he will become old and won't be able to work any more. What will he do
then, this boy?
Ivan leaned on the back of the chair and looked at the barman with
pleasure. His face read: "What a tough nut, this one, hey!" Yura felt how
his ears became hot. He lowered the fork and said in confusion:
- I... I don't know, somehow I never thought about it... - he grew
silent. The barman was looking at Yura seriously and sombrely. The awful
moments dragged slowly. Yura said with despair: - I will try to die before I
will cease being useful... - The barman's eyebrows rose to his forehead, he
looked at Ivan with apprehension. Totally dumbfounded, Yura announced: -
Anyway, I believe that its most important in life for a man to die a
beautiful death!
The barman silently stood up, patted Yura on the back with his broad
hand and retreated behind the bar. Ivan said:
- Well, buddy, thanks a lot. What a help you were. This way you will
collapse all my ideological work.
- Come on now - mumbled Yura. - Old age... Stop working... A person
must struggle all their life. Isn't that true?
- It is all true, - said the barman. - I, for instance, struggle to
avoid taxes all my life.
- Yeah, but that's not what I meant, - said Yura, waived his hand and
buried his face in the plate.
Ivan took a sip of the grape juice that was on the house and leisurely
said:
- By the way, Joyce. One very interesting detail. Although my ally said
nothing intelligent, given his tender age, take notice, he prefers to die
rather than to live in the old age like you. It simply never entered his
head, what he will do when he turns old. And you, Joyce, have been thinking
about it all your life. And all your life you are preparing for old age.
That's how it is, Joyce buddy.
The barman scratched his bald patch in reflection.
- Possibly, - said he.
- That's what the difference is, - said Ivan. - And the difference, I
think, is not in your favour.
The barman thought about it for a while, scratched his bald spot again,
and, without saying a word, disappeared through the door behind the bar.
- Well then, - said Ivan with satisfaction. - Today I got the better of
him. By the way, where are you from, fair child?
- From Vyaz'ma, - Yura said melancholically. He was acutely feeling the
unsoundness of his life experience.
- And what for?
- I need to get to Rhea. - He looked at Ivan and clarified: - Rhea -
it's one of Saturn's satellites.
- Oh, that's what it is, - said Ivan. - Fascinating. And what did you