"Ron Goulart - The Robot In The Closet" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goulart Ron)

all sorts of odd and unfamiliar dials dotting its metal front. Apparently it was turned off.
"Sara, there's a robot in the closet here," Tim announced.
"Oh, yes, that," Sara Tenbrook was hopping on one foot near the center of the living pod,
halfway out of her hotvest, tugging off one of her mismatched thermosox. A slim, auburn-haired
girl of twenty-three, very pretty and right now blushing as an aftereffect of the Sound wind they'd
been running against.
Gingerly, Tim reached around the mechanism to deposit his coat on a prong. "You don't act
stunned or astounded," he said, turning to face her.
"I was, more or less, expecting him." Sara, both of her sox off now, was standing in the exact
center of a plyorug. She wiggled her toes as she shrugged the rest of the way out of her tufted vest.
"More or less?"
"Well, more, actually. We're renting him for the next two weeks." She, slim shoulders slightly
hunched, crossed over to the wide handmade chart which was pasted to the sloping wall of the
domed room with stickumstripz.
Dropping his mittens near the dispozhole, Tim eased over to the closet again to eye the dormant
robot. He reached out a hand, briefly touched the machine man's surface. "Ah," he said. "Aha."
"Would you like a cup of carobcocoa? After a brisk trot on the runners' ramp it's always
heartwarming toтАФ"
"Aha!" repeated Tim, his fingers tapping and poking at the dials on the robot's broad chest.
"2040 . . . 2038 . . . et cetera . . . 1971 . . . 1933 . . . et cetera . . . Sure, I see."
"This is why I arranged to have him delivered while we were out on our twilight run along the
Sound," Sara explained, eyes still on the immense wall chart. "So you wouldn't scream and holler
and stomp around exclaiming, 'Aha!' and, 'Oho!'"
"I haven't said, 'Oho!' once so far." He backed, slowly pushing the closet door shut on the newly
arrived mechanism. "Nor have I screamed, whooped or hollered. However, Sara, I'll maybe do all
that and more unless you explain why we have a time machine in our closet,"
Sara coughed into her hand. "Are you absolutely certain you don't want a steaming mug ofтАФ"
"That's what that thing lurking in there is. One of those damn robot-style time machines."
"Well yes, butтАФ"
 "I won't go. Nope, no, not one year backwards in time, not even a week. I am not going to go
whizzing back through the years with you while you dig into the lives and times of your half-witted
relatives. Nope."
"The Tenbrooks are a distinguished clan, you nurf." She whirled, hands on hips, to scowl at
him. "Why, for countless centuries Tenbrooks have served their country and theirтАФ"
"I know, I know, Sara." He took a few cautious steps toward the young woman. "I've suffered
through your tracing of your roots. Listened to you babble about Dr. Ambrose Tenbrook and
Captain Firebrand Tenbrook and Sir Tobias Tenbrook and all the other goofy ancestors you've
become obsessed with since you went back toтАФ"
"Oho!" she said, hands clenching into fists. "At last we reach the peanut inside the nutshell,
Tim. You've really never wanted me to return to school to earn my AEP degree so I can be
considered an Adequately Educated Person and make myтАФ"
"That's absolutely unтАФ"
"My Lord, I'm almost twenty-four years old," she said. "You'd have been happy if I'd stayed
with the Flyin' Music Hall escorting the Robot Rockettes from grange hall to grange hall all across
the length and breadth of the Connecticut Sector of Greater New England. Sure, fine, that kind of
robot and android you don't mind. Bunch of big-chested bimbos without an intelligent thought or a
bright remark programmed into their nurfing heads. All they can do is kick their chunky legs
whileтАФ"
"Sara, you're forgetting who was so fanatically supportive of you when you decided to quit
piloting the Music Hall and return to Bridgeport Easy College. I've stood by you through thick