"Robert A. Heinlein - Stranger in a Strange Land - Original Ve" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)turned again toward the side door-then stopped and looked back with a quizzical
smile. "You might ask me again, real prettily, under other circumstances. I'm curious to see what I might do." The woman was gone. Smith relaxed into the water bed and let the room fade away from him. He felt sober triumph that he had somehow comforted himself so that it was not necessary for them to die . . . but there was much new to grok. The woman's last speech had contained many symbols new to him and those which were not new had been arranged in fashions not easily understood. Out he was happy that the emotional flavor of them had been suitable for communication between water brothers-although touched with something else both disturbing and terrifyingly pleasant. He thought about his new brother, the woman creature, and felt odd tingles run through him. The feeling reminded him of the first time he had been allowed to be present at a discorporatiOn and he felt happy without knowing why. He wished that his brother Doctor Mahmoud were here. There was so much to grok, so little to grok from. Jill Boardman spent the rest of her watch in a mild daze. She managed to avoid any mistakes in medication and she answered from reflex the usual verbal overtures made to her. But the face of the Man from Mars stayed in her mind and she mulled over the crazy things he had said. No, not "crazy," she corrected-she had done her Stint ~fl psychiatric wards and she felt certain that his remarks had not been psychotic. She decided that "innocent" was the proper term-then she decided that the word was not adequate. His expression was innocent, but his eyes were not. What She had once worked in a Catholic hospital; she suddenly saw the face of the Man from Mars surrounded by the head dress of a nursing Sister, a nun. The idea disturbed her, for there was nothing female about Smith's face. She was changing into Street clothes when another nurse stuck her head into the locker room. "Phone, Jill. For you." Jill accepted the call, sound without vision, while she continued to dress. "Is this Florence Nightingale?" a baritone voice asked. "Speaking. That you, Ben?" "The stalwart upholder of the freedom of the press in person. Little one, are you busy?" "What do you have in mind?" "I have in mind taking you out, buying you a bloody steak, plying you with liquor, and asking you a question." "The answer is still 'No.' "Not that question. Another one." "Oh, do you know another one? If so, tell me." "Later. I want you softened up by food and liquor first." "Real steak? Not syntho?" "Guaranteed. When you stick a fork into it, it will turn imploring eyes on you." "You must be on an expense account, Ben." "That's irrelevant and ignoble. How about it?" "You've talked me into it." "The roof of the medical center. Ten minutes." |
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