"Gordon R. Dickson - Dragon Knight 01 - The Dragon and the George" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)Chapter 1
At 10:30 a.m., sharp, James Eckert pulled up in front of Stoddard Hall on the Riveroak College campus, where Grottwold Weinar Hansen had his lab. Angie Farrell was not, however, ready and waiting at the curb. Of course. It was a warm, bright September morning. Jim sat in the car and tried to keep his temper un- der control. It would not be Angie's fault. That idiot of a Grottwold undoubtedly had dreamed up some- thing to keep her working overtime in spite of-or perhaps because of-the fact he knew she and Jim were supposed to go home-hunting this morning. It was hard not to lose his temper with someone like Grottwold, who was not only one of the world's non- prizes but who had been very patently trying to take Angie away from Jim and get her for himself. One of the two big doors on the front of the Stoddard Hall opened and a figure came out. But it was not Angie. It was a stocky young man with bushy reddish hair and mustache, carrying an overstaffed briefcase. Seeing Jim in the car, he came down the steps over to the car and leaned on the edge of the opened win- dow on the curb side of the front seat. "Waiting for Angie?" he asked. "That's right, Danny," said Jim. "She was supposed to be out here to meet me, but evidently Grottwold's still hanging on to her." "That's his style." Danny Cerdak was a teaching assistant in the Physics Department. He was the only other Class AA volleyball player on campus. "You're going out to see Cheryl's trailer?" "If Angie ever gets loose in time," said Jim. "Oh, she'll probably be along any second now. Say, do the two of you want to drop over to my place after we people from the team with their wives and so forth." "Sounds fine," said Jim, glumly, "if I'm not stuck with some extra work for Shorles. Thanks, in any case, though; and we'll certainly be there if we can make it." "Right." Danny straightened up. "See you tomor- row for the game, then." He went off. Jim returned to his own thoughts. At the same time, he told himself, maturity dictated that he should not lose his emotional control over something like this-even though they only had two hours to get to the trailer court and return and have lunch before getting Angie back to her part-time job as Grottwold's lab assistant. He must remember that frustration was a part of life. He had to learn to live with the whole business of selfish department heads, inadequate salaries and an economy that was pinching Riveroak College here, like all other educational institutions, to the point where it seemed that about all you could do with a doctorate in medieval history was use the diploma to shine your shoes, before going to apply for a job as a grain shoveler- Jim hauled himself up in his thoughts at this point, having noticed that, far from calming him down, this rehearsing of things to be endured had his fists white- knuckled and beginning to bend the ancient steering wheel of the Gorp. Nothing about the Gorp was strong enough to ignore that kind of treatment. For a ten- year-old Fiat, it was still a faithful little car, but no honest person could call it in good shape. On the other hand, Jim himself-like many Class AA volleyball players-was in shape with a vengeance. He stood a shade under six feet, but even professional weight- guessers usually underestimated by twenty |
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