"Robert A. Heinlein - The Door into Summer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

CHAPTER 2

My car was parked under Pershing Square where I had left it earlier in the
day. I dropped money into the parking attendant, set the bug on arterial-west,
got Pete out and put him on the seat, and relaxed.
Or tried to relax. Los Angeles traffic was too fast and too slashingly
murderous for me to be really happy under automatic control; I wanted to
redesign their whole installation-it was not a really modern тАЮfail safe.тАЬ By the
time we were west of Western Avenue and could go back on manual control I
was edgy and wanted a drink. тАЮThereтАЩs an oasis, Pete.тАЬ
тАЮBlurrrt?тАЬ
тАЮRight ahead.тАЬ
But while I was looking for a place to park-Los Angeles was safe from
invasion; the invaders wouldnтАЩt find a place to park-I recalled the doctorтАЩs
order not to touch alcohol.
So I told him emphatically what he could do with his orders.
Then I wondered if he could tell, almost a day later, whether or not I had
taken a drink. I seemed to recall some technical article, but it had not been in
my line and I had just skimmed it.
Damnation, he was quite capable of refusing to let me coldsleep. IтАЩd better
play it cagey and lay off the stuff.
тАЮNow?тАЬ inquired Pete.
тАЮLater. WeтАЩre going to find a drive-in instead.тАЬ I suddenly realized that I didnтАЩt
really want a drink; I wanted food and a nightтАЩs sleep. Doc was correct; I was
more sober and felt better than I had in weeks. Maybe that shot in the fanny
had been nothing but B1 if so, it was jet-propelled. So we found a drive-in
restaurant. I ordered chicken in the rough for me and a half pound of
hamburger and some milk for Pete and took him out for a short walk while it
was coming. Pete and I ate in drive-ins a lot because I didnтАЩt have to sneak
him in and out.
A half hour later I let the car drift back out of the busy circle, stopped it, lit a
cigarette, scratched Pete under the chin, and thought.
Dan, my boy, the doe was right; youтАЩve been trying to dive down the neck of
a bottle. ThatтАЩs okay for your pointy head but itтАЩs too narrow for your
shoulders. Now youтАЩre cold sober, youтАЩve got your belly crammed with food
and itтАЩs resting comfortably for the first time in days. You feel better.
What else? Was the doc right about the rest of it? Are you a spoiled infant?
Do you lack the guts to stand up to a setback? Why are you taking this step?
Is it the spirit of adventure? Or are you simply hiding from yourself, like a
Section Eight trying to crawl back into his motherтАЩs womb?
But I do want to do it, I told myself-the year 2000. Boy!
Okay, so you want to. But do you have to run off without settling the beefs
you have right here?
All right, all right!-but how can I settle them? I donтАЩt want Belle back, not after
what sheтАЩs done. And what else can I do? Sue them? DonтАЩt be silly, IтАЩve got
no evidence-and anyhow, nobody ever wins a lawsuit but the lawyers.