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

"Lug it back to the station and ship it home. Or throw it away."
The youngster looked blank. "You'll have to, eventually," the cadet went
on. "When you make the lift to the school ship, twenty pounds is your total
allowance."
"But- Well, suppose I do, who's to help me get it to the station?"
"That's your problem. If you want to be in the Patrol, you'll have to learn to
cope with problems."
"But-"
"Shut up." The cadet turned away. Matt and Tex trailed along.
Five minutes later Matt, naked as an egg, was stuffing his bag and clothes
into a sack marked with his serial number. As ordered, he filed through a
door, clutching his orders and a remnant of dignity. He found himself in a
gang refresher which showered him, scrubbed him, rinsed him, and blew
him dry again, assembly-line style. His instruction sheet was waterproof;
he shook from it a few clinging drops.
For two hours he was prodded, poked, thumped, photographed, weighed,
X-rayed, injected, sampled, and examined until he was bewildered. He saw
Tex once, in another queue. Tex waved, slapped his own bare ribs, and
shivered. Matt started to speak but his own line started up.
The medicos examined his repaired leg, making him exercise it, inquired
the date of the operation, and asked if it hurt him. He found himself admitting
that it did. More pictures were taken; more tests were made. Presently he
was told, "That's all. Get back into line." ,
"Is it all right, sir?" Matt blurted out.
"Probably. You'll be given some exercises. Get along."
After a long time he came into a room in which several boys were
dressing. His path took him across a weighing platform; his body interrupted
electric-eye beams. Relays closed, an automatic sequence took place based

6
on his weight, height, and body dimensions. Presently a package slid down a
chute and plunked down in front of him.
It contained an undergarment, a blue coverall, a pair of soft boots, all in
his size.
The blue uniform he viewed as a makeshift, since he was anxious to swap
it for the equally plain, but oyster white, uniform of a cadet. The shoes
delighted him. He zipped them on, relishing their softness and glovelike fit. It
seemed as if he could stand on a coin and call it, heads or tails. "Cat feet"-his
first space boots! He took a few steps, trying to walk like the cadet he had
seen earlier.
"Dodson!"
"Coming." He hurried out and shortly found himself thrust into a room with
an older man in civilian clothes.
"Sit down. I'm Joseph Kelly." He took Mart's instruction sheet. "Matthew
Dodson . .. nice to know you, Matt."
"How do you do, Mr. Kelly."
"Not too badly. Why do you want to join the Patrol, Matt?"
"Why, uh, because-" Matt hesitated. "Well, to tell the
truth, sir, I'm so confused right now that I'm darned if I know!"
Kelly chuckled. "That's the best answer I've heard today. Do you have any