"Harrison, Harry- The Stainless Steel Rat for President" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

They were nodding enthusiastically at the idea when I made my exit. I was nodding to myself as well. Feeling

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suddenly, well, not exactly old or past it, but definitely as though my generation was being supplanted. Must have been the depressing effect of the drugs or my little religious lecture.
"Brace yourself, Jim, and think strong thoughts!" I muttered to myself as I dropped grateftilly back onto the sleeping bag. "You are the planetary savior and they will build statues of you."
Which wasn't too bad a thought and I fell asleep with a smile on mv lins.

By late afternoon all of the troops were awake and growling for food. My arm was throbbing and felt decidedly uncomfortable. I weighed the relief of dope against a clear head and settled for a clear head. Plans had to be made and a number of alternate courses were already presenting themselves for examination. I shoveled down reconstituted powdered eggs mixed with rehydrated dehydrated bacon, quickly washing the stuff out of sight with caffein condensate. And silently resolved to give more thought to the rations next time we took a trip like this. By the time the plates had been scraped clean my decisions had been made.
"Bolivar, we go to work," I called out magisterially. Was it with some reluctance that he tore himself away from the undisputably charming company of Flavia? Ah youth, youth! "Would you be so kind as to unlimber the large box labeled Top Secret that you will find in the rear compartment." "Hooray! It's about time we found out what was in there." The others gathered around as he plumped the heavy gray container at my side. I looked at the scratches around the lock. "No patience I see. You've been at the lock." "Not me," he said. "That was James. The burns along the

seam are where I worked on it. "
"And you didn't succeed either. Not only are the contents of this container the latest invention of the great Professor Coypu and the Special Corps laboratory, but the container itself is unenterable, the lock unbreakable. But after I show it

my thumprint here, punch in the correct number . . ." The top of the container slipped aside and they all leaned forward as I reached in and extracted a black metal box. It had a hole in the top and a switch on its side and I held it up for examination.
"Not too impressive," Angelina sniffed.
"All in the eye of the beholder, my love. You will quickly

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The Stainless Steel Rat for President 57

discover that what it can do is next to miraculous. It is a molecular extractor and restorer, or MES as the acronym builders would have it. When you see it in action you will

grow weak with awe." I rooted deep in the container and extracted a tiny object. "James, what would you say that this is?"
He took it in the palm of his hand, turned it around and around as he squinted at it, then handed it back. "A very detailed model of a heavy mortar. "
"Right, but not exactly right. It is a full-sized mortar that has had ninety-nine percent of its molecules removed. All we must do is replace the missing molecules and it will be restored to its original condition."
"Are you sure you don't want to rest?" Angelina asked. "You might even have a fever from that wound." "Scoff now and repent at leisure!"
I set the MES on the ground, then pulled a cable from its side, which I clipped to the miniature mortar. There was an expanding plastic funnel in the box, which I opened out then plugged into the orifice on top of the machine.
"All that is missing is a source of raw material. Sand, stones, debris of any kind, just dump it into the funnel, boys, and keep it full. That's it; let me know when you are ready. GoodЧthen here we go!"
I reached out and flipped the switch on its side and it began to whine petulantly. Nothing else happened. I saw the skeptical looks.
"Patience," I cozened. "It takes a few moments to strip the molecules down to their component particlesЧahh there it goes."
It was like watching a balloon being pumped full of air, although in this case the mortar was being pumped full of steel. As the level of debris fell in the hopper the mortar began to swell, larger and larger, growing and expanding before our eyes as though we were looking at it through a three-dimensional zoom lens. Within a minute it was fullsize. A bell pinged and the whine of operation died away.
"Any doubters now?" I asked, reaching out and rapping the barrel. It gave out the ring of pure steel.
"This is really great. Dad," Bolivar said, twirling the range adjustments as James squinted through the sight. "It means

we can take any kind of heavy equipment with us by squeezing out all the excess mass. Sav . . ."

58 The Stainless Steel Rat for President

"I'll bet you've got a number of interesting things already in that box." James finished the sentence for him.
"I doЧand we're going to use one right now. Let's just

squeeze that mortar down to size first."
I flipped the switch in the opposite direction and the mortar began to shrink as the whine built up. A steady stream of dust poured from an orifice on the MES's side.
"Steel molecules," I said. "Ninety-nine out of every hundred being whipped away."
When the process was completed I put the miniature mortar away and took out a complex machine that rested lightly in the palm of my hand.
"A tissue regenerator and4iealer, the kind that they have only in the big hospitals. Twenty-four hours in this machine and my arm will be as good as new. I am sure that we all agree I must be in tip-top sh╗pe before we start this election campaign. "
The boys shoveled the molecular steel back into the hop-