"Robert A. Heinlein - To Sail Beyond the Sunset" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

Tennyson, Ulysses



Chapter 1 - The Committee for Aesthetic Deletions
I woke up in bed with a man and a cat. The man was a stranger; the cat was
not.
I closed my eyes and tried to pull myself together - hook тАЪnowтАЩ to mp memory
of last night.
No good. There wasnтАЩt any тАЪlast nightтАЩ. My last dear memory was of being a
passenger in a Burroughs irrelevant bus, bound for New Liverpool, when
there was a loud bang, my head hit the seat in front of me, then a lady
handed me a baby and we started filing out of the starboard emergency exit,
me with a cat in one arm and a baby in the other, and I saw a man with his
right arm off -
I gulped and opened my eyes. A stranger in my bed was better than a man
bleeding to death from a stump where his right forearm ought to be. Had it
been a nightmare? I fervently hoped so.
If it was not, then what had I done with the baby? And whose baby was it?
Maureen, this wonтАЩt do. Mislaying a baby is inexcusable. тАЪPixel, have you
seen a baby?тАЩ The cat stood mute and a plea of not guilty was directed by
the court.
My father once told me that I was the only one of his daughters capable of
sitting down in church and finding that I had sat on a hot lemon meringue
pie... anyone else would have looked. (I had looked, But my cousin Nelson -
Oh, never mind.)
Regardless of lemon pies, bloody stumps, or missing babies, there was still
this stranger in my bed, his bony back toward me - husbandly rather than
loverly. (But I did not recall marrying him.)
IтАЩve shared beds with men before, and with women, and wet babies, and cats
who demand most of the bed, and (once) with a barbershop quartet. But I do
like to know with whom I am sleeping (just an old-fashioned girl, thatтАЩs me).
So I said to the cat, тАЪPixel, who is he? Do we know him?тАЩ
тАЪNo-o-o-o.тАЩ
тАЪWell, letтАЩs check: I put a hand on the manтАЩs shoulder, intending to shake him
awake and then ask where we had met - or had we?
His shoulder was cold.
He was quite dead.
This is not a good way to start the day.
I grabbed Pixel and got out of bed by instantaneous translation; Pixel
protested. I said sharply, тАЪShut up, you! Mama has problems.тАЩ I forced a
thalamic pause of at least a microsecond, maybe longer, and decided not to
flee headlong outdoors, or out into the hallway, as the case may be... but to
slow down and attempt to assess the situation, before screaming for help.
Perhaps just as well, as I found that I was barefooted all the way up. I am not
jumpy about skin but it did seem prudent to dress before reporting a corpse.
Police were certain to want to question me and I have known cops who
would exploit any advantage in order to throw one off balance.
But first a look at the corpse.
Still clutching Pixel I went round and bent over the other side of the bed.