"Robert A. Heinlein - Farnham's Freehold" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

Some minutes later the rumbling had died out, the floor was steady, Mrs.
Farnham had been knocked out by injected drug, two tiny lights were glowing in
the first bay, and Mr. Farnham was inspecting.
Damage was slight. Despite guardrails, cans had popped off shelves; a
fifth of rum was broken. But liquor was almost the only thing stored in glass,
and liquor had been left in cases, the rest of it had come through. The worst
casualty was the shelter's battery-driven radio, torn loose from the wall and
smashed.
Mr. Farnham was on his knees, retrieving bits of it. His son looked
down. "Don't bother, Dad. Sweep it up and throw it away."
"Some parts can be salvaged."
 "What do you know about radios?"
"Nothing," his father admitted. "But I have books."
"A book won't fix that. You should have stocked a spare."
"I have a spare."
"Then for God's sake get it! I want to know what's happened."
His father got up slowly and looked at Duke. "I would like to know, too.
I can't hear anything over this radio I'm wearing. Not surprising, it's short
range. But the spare is packed in foam and probably wasn't hurt."
"Then get it hooked up."
"Later."
"Later, hell. Where is it?"
Mr. Farnham breathed hard. "I've had all the yap I'm going to take."
"Huh? Sorry. Just tell me where the spare is."
"I shan't. We might lose it, too. I'm going to wait until I'm sure the
attack is over."
His son shrugged. "Okay, if you want to be difficult. But all of us want
to hear the news. It's a shabby trick if you ask me."
"Nobody asked you. I told you I've had all the yap I'm going to take. If
you're itching to know what's happening outside, you can leave. I'll unbolt
this door, crank back the armor door, and you can open the upper door
yourself."
"Eh? Don't be silly."
"But close it after you. I don't want it open-both for blast and
radioactivity."
"That's another thing. Don't you have any way to measure radioactivity?
We ought to take steps to -- "
"SHUT UP!"
"What? Dad, don't pull the heavy-handed father on me."
"Duke, I ask you to keep quiet and listen. Will you?"
"Well...all right. But I don't appreciate being bawled out in the
presence of others."
"Then keep your voice down." They were in the first bay near the door.
Mrs. Farnham was snoring by them; the others had retreated around the bend,
unwilling to witness. "Are you ready to listen?"
"Very well, sir," Duke said stiffly.
"Good. Son, I was not joking. Either leave...or do exactly as I tell
you. That includes keeping your mouth shut when I tell you to. Which will it
be? Absolute obedience, prompt and cheerful? Or will you leave?"
"Aren't you being rather high-handed?"