"Blish, James - Beep" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blish James)


Beep
JOSEF PABER lowered his newspaper slightly. Finding the girl
on the park bench looking his way, he smiled the agonizingly
embarrassed smile of the thoroughly married nobody caught
bird-watching, and ducked back into the paper again.
He was reasonably certain that he looked the part of a
middle-aged, steadily employed, harmless citizen enjoying a
Sunday break in the bookkeeping and family routines. He
was also quite certain, despite his official instructions, that
it wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference if he didn't.
These boy-meets-girl assignments always came off. Jo had
never tackled a single one that had required him.
As a matter of fact, the newspaper, which he was supposed
to be using only as a blind, interested him a good deal more
than his job did. He had only barely begun to suspect the
obvious ten years ago when the Service had snapped him
up; now, after a decade as an agent, he was still fascinated
to see how smoothly the really important situations came off.
The dangerous situationsnot boy-meets-girl.
This affair of the Black Horse Nebula, for instance. Some
days ago the papers and the commentators had begun to
mention reports of disturbances in that area, and Jo's
practiced eye had picked up the mention. Something big
was cooking.
Today it had boiled overthe Black Horse Nebula had
suddenly spewed ships by the hundreds, a massed armada
that must have taken more than a century of effort on the
part of a whole star cluster, a production drive conducted
in the strictest and most fanatical kind of secrecy. . . .
And, of course, the Service had been on the spot in plenty
of time. With three times as many ships, disposed with
mathematical precision so as to enfilade the entire armada
the moment it broke from the nebula. The battle had been
a massacre, the attack smashed before the average citizen
could even begin to figure out what it had been aimed at
and good had triumphed over evil once more.
Of course.
Furtive scuffings on the gravel drew his attention briefly.
He looked at his watch, which said 14:58:03. That was the
time, according to his instructions, when boy had to meet
girl.
He had been given the strictest kind of orders to let nothing
interfere with this meetingthe orders always issued on boy-
meets-girl assignments. But, as usual, he had nothing to do
but observe. The meeting was coming off on the dot, without
any prodding from Jo. They always did.
Of course.
With a sigh, he folded his newspaper, smiling again at the
coupleyes, it was the right man, tooand moved away, as