"Gordon R. Dickson - Dragon Knight 01 - The Dragon and the George" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

three years ahead of her at Michigan State, where they met as graduate
students. With both of them set for jobs at the same academic institution, it
had looked as if they had the future taped. But then when they had gotten
here, Shorles broke the news that because of last-minute budget problems, Jim
could not be given his instructor- ship until the spring quarter at the
earliest. Meanwhile, Shorles had a teaching assistantship open...
It had taken Jim less than a month to find out the real nature of the "budget
problem." Like academic departments in many colleges and universities, the
staff teaching history at Riveroak College was riddled with internal politics.
Two established factions in the department opposed each other on almost every
point. Shorles, independent of both, had gotten by for years by playing them
against each other. But an additional instructor added at this time could
cause a reshuffling of allegiances and a resultant upset in the neat balance
of power. On the other hand, Professor Theodore N. Jellamine, the outspoken,
motorcycle-riding vice- chairman of the department, was thinking of retiring
this coming spring. His leaving would mean promo- tions for those under him;
and by controlling these, Shorles could then absorb a new instructor into a
fresh balance of power hand-tailored by himself.
"I'm sorry, Angie," said Jim, contritely. "I had to sit through that class for
a hour with nothing to do but look interested and think of what he's done to
us;
and by the time the bell rang, I didn't dare talk to him for fear I'd put one
in his teeth when he turned me down again."
There was a moment's stark silence in the car as they drove along; then Jim,
staring straight ahead out тАв the windshield, felt his arm squeezed gently.
"That's all right," Angie told him. "If you felt like
that, you did the right thing. You'll catch him some- time when you're able to
talk calmly about it."
They drove on for a little while longer without talk- ing.
"There it is," said Jim, nodding to the right, off the highway.


Chapter 2
The Bellevue Trailer Court had not been laid out with an eye to attractiveness
and none of its own- ers in the past twenty years had done anything to amend
the oversight. Its present proprietor, in his fif- ties, was as tall and heavy
as Jim Eckert, but his skin was now too large for his long face. The flesh had
fallen into folds and creases, and the Prussian blue shirt he wore ballooned
loosely about him. His faded maroon pants were drawn into deep puckers at his
waist by a thin black belt. His breath smelled as if he had just been snacking
on overripe cheese, and in the sun-hot interior of the empty mobile home he
showed Jim and Angie this aspect of him was hard to ignore.
"Well," he said, waving at the mobile home walls about them, "this is it. I'll
leave you to look it over. Just come back to the office when you're ready."
He took his breath outside, leaving the door open behind him. Jim looked at
Angie, but she was run- ning her fingers over the cracked varnish on one of
the cupboard doors above the sink.
"It's pretty bad, isn't it?" Jim remarked.
It was. Obviously the mobile home was in the last stages of its life. The
floor canted visibly behind Jim and as visibly canted toward the trailer's