"Robert A. Heinlein - Space Cadet" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

The young man grudgingly admitted it. "You won't mind if we move it and
sit down," Tex went on. He started putting the items on the floor. The owner
looked sulky but said nothing.
There was room for three. Tex insisted that the others sit down, then sat
down on his bag and leaned against Mart's knees, with his legs stretched out.
His footwear, thus displayed, were seen to be fine western boots, high-
heeled and fancy.
A candidate across from them stared at the boots, then spoke to the boy
next to him. "Pipe the cowboy!"
Tex snorted and started to get up. Matt put a hand on his shoulder,
shoving him back. "It's not worth it, Tex. We've got a busy day ahead."
Oscar nodded agreement. "Take it easy, fellow."
Tex subsided. "Well-all right. Just: the same," he added, "my Uncle Bodie
would stuff a man's feet in his mouth for less than that." He glared at the boy
across from him.
Pierre Armand leaned over and spoke to Tex. "Excuse me-but are those
really shoes for riding on horses?"
^Huh? What do you think they are? Skis?"
"Oh, I'm sorry! But you see, I've never seen a horse."
"What?"
"I have," announced Oscar, "in the zoo, that is."
"In a zoo?" repeated Tex.
"In the zoo at New Auckland."
"Oh-" said Tex. "I get it. You're a Venus colonial." Matt then recalled
where he had heard Oscar's vaguely familiar lisp before-in the speech of a
visiting lecturer. Tex turned to Pierre. "Pete, are you from Venus, too?"
"No, I'm-" Pete's voice was drowned out.
"Attention, please! Quiet!" The speaker was dressed in the severely plain,
oyster-white uniform of a space cadet. "All of you," he went on, speaking into
a hand amplifier, "who have odd serial numbers come with me. Bring your
baggage. Even numbers wait where you are."
"Odd numbers?" said Tex. "That's me!" He jumped up.
5
 Matt looked at his instructions. "Me, too!"
The cadet came down the aisle in front of them. Matt and Tex waited for
him to pass. The cadet did not hold himself erectly; he crouched the merest
trifle, knees relaxed and springy, hands ready to grasp. His feet glided softly
over the floor. The effect was catlike, easy grace; Matt felt that if the room
were suddenly to turn topsy-turvy the cadet would land on his feet on the
ceiling-which was perfectly true.
Matt wanted very much to look like him.
As the cadet was passing, the boy with the plentiful baggage plucked at
his sleeve. "Hey, mister!"
The cadet turned suddenly and crouched, then checked himself as
quickly. "Yes?"
"I've got an odd number, but I can't carry all this stuff. Who can I get to
help me?"
"You can't." The cadet prodded the pile with his toe. "All of this is yours?"
"Yes. What do I do? I can't leave it here. Somebody'll steal it."
"I can't see why anyone would." The cadet eyed the pile with distaste.