"Heinlein, Robert A - By His Bootstraps" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

Bob Wilson helped himself to a second drink, and then a third. He was beginning to feel both good and argumentative. УWhy?Ф he said flatly.
Joe looked exasperated. УDammit, if youТd just step through once, explanations wouldnТt be necessary. HoweverЧФ According to Joe, there was an old guy on the other side who needed WilsonТs help. With WilsonТs help the three of them would run the country. The exact nature of the help Joe could not or would not specify. Instead he bore down on the unique possibilities for high adventure. УYou donТt want to slave your life away teaching numskulls in some freshwater college,Ф he insisted. УThis is your chance. Grab it!Ф
Bob Wilson admitted to himself that a Ph.D. and an appointment as an instructor was not his idea of existence. Still, it beat working for a living. His eye fell on the gin bottle, its level now deplorably lowered. That explained it. He got up unsteadily.
УNo, my dear fellow,Ф he stated, УIТm not going to climb on your merry-go-round. You know why?Ф
УWhy?Ф
УBecause IТm drunk, thatТs why. YouТre not there at all. That ainТt there.Ф He gestured widely at the circle. УThere ainТt anybody here but me, and IТm drunk. Been working too hard,Ф he added apologetically. УIТm goinТ to bed.Ф
УYouТre not drunk.Ф
УI am drunk. Peter Piper pepped a pick of pippered peckles.Ф He moved toward his bed.
Joe grabbed his arm. УYou canТt do that,Ф he said.
УLet him alone!Ф
They both swung around. Facing them, standing directly in front of the circle was a third man. Bob looked at the newcomer, looked back at Joe, blinked his eyes and tried to focus them. The two looked a good bit alike, he thought, enough alike to be brothers. Or maybe he was seeing double. Bad stuff, gin. Should Сave switched to rum a long time ago. Good stuff, rum. You could drink it, or take a bath in it. No, that was ginЧhe meant Joe.
How silly! Joe was the one with the black eye. He wondered why he had ever been confused.
Then who was this other lug? CouldnТt a couple of friends have a quiet drink together without people butting in?
УWho are you?Ф he said with quiet dignity.
The newcomer turned his head, then looked at Joe. УHe knows me,Ф he said meaningly.
Joe looked him over slowly. УYes,Ф he said, Уyes, I suppose I do. But what the deuce are you here for? And why are you trying to bust up the plan?Ф
УNo time for long-winded explanations. I know more about it than you doЧyouТll concede thatЧand my judgment is bound to be better than yours. He doesnТt go through the Gate.Ф
УI donТt concede anything of the sortЧФ
The telephone rang.
УAnswer it!Ф snapped the newcomer.

Bob was about to protest the peremptory tone, but decided he wouldnТt. He lacked the phlegmatic temperament necessary to ignore a ringing telephone. УHello?Ф
УHello,Ф he was answered. УIs that Bob Wilson?Ф
УYes. Who is this?Ф
УNever mind. I just wanted to be sure you were there. I thought you would be. YouТre right in the groove, kid, right in the groove.Ф
Wilson heard a chuckle, then the click of the disconnection. УHello,Ф he said. УHello!Ф He jiggled the bar a couple of times, then hung up.
УWhat was it?Ф asked Joe.
УNothing. Some nut with a misplaced sense of humor.Ф The telephone bell rang again. Wilson added, УThere he is again,Ф and picked up the receiver. УListen, you butterfly-brained ape! IТm a busy man, and this is not a public telephone.Ф
УWhy, Bob!Ф came a hurt feminine voice.
УHuh? Oh, itТs you, Genevieve. LookЧIТm sorry. I apologizeЧФ
УWell, I should think you would!Ф
УYou donТt understand, honey. A guy has been pestering me over the phone and I thought it was him. You know I wouldnТt talk that way to you, babe.Ф
УWell, I should think not. Particularly after all you said to me this afternoon, and all we meant to each otherФ
УHuh? This afternoon? Did you say this afternoon?Ф
УOf course. But what I called up about was this: you left your hat in my apartment. I noticed it a few minutes after you had gone and just thought IТd call and tell you where it is. Anyhow,Ф she added coyly, Уit gave me an excuse to hear your voice again.Ф
УSure. Fine,Ф he said mechanically. УLook, babe, IТm a little mixed up about this. Trouble IТve had all day long, and more trouble now. IТll look you up tonight and straighten it out. But I know I didnТt leave your hat in my apartmentЧФ
УYour hat, silly!Ф
УHuh? Oh, sure! Anyhow, IТll see you tonight. СBy.Ф He rang off hurriedly. Gosh, he thought, that woman is getting to be a problem. Hallucinations. He turned to his two companions.
УVery well, Joe. IТm ready to go if you are.Ф He was not sure just when or why he had decided to go through the time gadget, but he had. Who did this other mug think he was, anyhow, trying to interfere with a manТs freedom of choice?
УFine!Ф said Joe, in a relieved voice. УJust step through. ThatТs all there is to it.Ф
УNo, you donТt!Ф It was the ubiquitous stranger. He stepped between Wilson and the Gate.
Bob Wilson faced him. УListen, you! You come butting in here like you think I was a bum. If you donТt like it, go jump in the lakeЧand IТm just the kind of guy who can do it! You and who else?Ф
The stranger reached out and tried to collar him. Wilson let go a swing, but not a good one. It went by nothing faster than parcel post. The stranger walked under it and let him have a mouthful of knucklesЧlarge, hard ones. Joe closed in rapidly, coming to BobТs aid. They traded punches in a free-for-all, with Bob joining in enthusiastically but inefficiently. The only punch he landed was on Joe, theoretically his ally. However, he had intended it for the third man.
It was this faux pas which gave the stranger an opportunity to land a clean left jab on WilsonТs face. It was inches higher than the button, but in BobТs bemused condition it was sufficient to cause him to cease taking part in the activities.

Bob Wilson came slowly to awareness of his surroundings. He was seated on a floor which seemed a little unsteady. Someone was bending over him. УAre you all right?Ф the figure inquired.
УI guess so,Ф he answered thickly. His mouth pained him; he put his hand to it, got it sticky with blood. УMy head hurts.Ф
УI should think it would. You came through head over heels. I think you hit your head when you landed.Ф
WilsonТs thoughts were coming back into confused focus. Came through? He looked more closely at his succorer. He saw a middle-aged man with gray-shot bushy hair and a short, neatly trimmed beard. He was dressed in what Wilson took to be purple lounging pajamas.
But the room in which he found himself bothered him even more. It was circular and the ceiling was arched so subtly that it was difficult to say how high it was. A steady glareless light filled the room from no apparent source. There was no furniture save for a high dais or pulpitshaped object near the wall facing him. УCame through? Came through what?Ф