"Herbert, Frank - Old Rambling House" - читать интересную книгу автора (Herbert Brian & Frank)

'What is your talent - your occupation?'
'Tax accountant. Say! Why all these -'
'That was to be expected,' said the man. 'Clever! Oh, excessively clever!' His hand moved again to the belt. 'Now be very quiet. This may confuse you momentarily.'
Colored lights filled both the Grahams' minds. They staggered.
'You are qualified,' said the man. 'You will serve.'
'Where are we?' demanded Martha Graham.
'The coordinates would not be intelligible to you,' he said. 'I am of the Rojac. It is sufficient for you to know that you are under Rojac sovereignty.'

Ted Graham said, 'But -'
'You have, in a way, been kidnapped. And the Raimees have fled to your planet - an unregistered planet.'
'I'm afraid,' Martha Graham said shakily.
'You have nothing to fear,' said the man. 'You are no longer on the planet of your birth - nor even in the same galaxy.' He glanced at Ted Graham's wrist. 'That device on your wrist - it tells your local time?'
'Yes.'
'That will help in the search. And your sun - can you describe its atomic cycle?'
Ted Graham groped in his mind for his science memories from school, from the Sunday supplements. 'I can recall that our galaxy is a spiral like -'
'Most galaxies are spiral.'
'Is this some kind of a practical joke?' asked Ted Graham.
The man smiled, a cold, superior smile. 'It is no joke. Now I will make you a proposition.'
Ted nodded warily. 'All right, let's have the stinger.'
'The people who brought you here were tax collectors we Rojac recruited from a subject planet. They were conditioned to make it impossible for them to leave their job untended. Unfortunately, they were clever enough to realize that if they brought someone else in who could do their job, they were released from their mental bonds. Very clever.'
'But-'
'You may have their job,' said the man. 'Normally, you would be put to work in the lower echelons, but we believe in meting out justice wherever possible. The Raimees undoubtedly stumbled on your planet by accident and lured you into this position without -'
'How do you know I can do your job?'
'That moment of brilliance was an aptitude test. You passed. Well, do you accept?'
'What about our baby?' Martha Graham worriedly wanted to know.
'You will be allowed to keep it until it reaches the age of decision - about the time it will take the child to reach adult stature.'
'Then what?' insisted Martha Graham.
'The child will take its position in society - according to its ability.'
'Will we ever see our child after that?'
'Possibly.'
Ted Graham said, 'What's the joker in this?'
Again the cold, superior smile. 'You will receive conditioning similar to that which we gave the Raimees. And we will want to examine your memories to aid us in our search for your planet. It would be good to find a new inhabitable place.'
'Why did they trap us like this?' asked Martha Graham.
'It's lonely work,' the man explained. 'Your house is actually a type of space conveyance that travels along your collection route - and there is much travel to the job. And then - you will not have friends, nor time for much other than work. Our methods are necessarily severe at times.'
'Travel?' Martha Graham repeated in dismay.
'Almost constantly.'
Ted Graham felt his mind whirling. And behind him, he heard his wife sobbing.

The Raimees sat in what had been the Grahams' trailer.
'For a few moments, I feared he would not succumb to the bait,' she said. 'I knew you could never overcome the mental compulsion enough to leave them there without then- first agreeing.'
Raimee chuckled. 'Yes. And now I'm going to indulge in everything the Rojac never permitted. I'm going to write ballads and poems.'
'And I'm going to paint,' she said. 'Oh, the delicious freedom!'
'Greed won this for us,' he said. 'The long study of the Grahams paid off. They couldn't refuse to trade.'
'I knew they'd agree. The looks in their eyes when they saw the house! They both had ... ' She broke off, a look of horror coming into her eyes. 'One of them did not agree I'
'They both did. You heard them.'
'The baby?'
He stared at his wife. 'But - but it is not at the age of decision.'
'In perhaps eighteen of this planet's years, it will be at the age of decision. What then?'
His shoulders sagged. He shuddered. 'I will not be able to fight it off. I will have to build a transmitter, call the Rojac and confess!'
'And they will collect another inhabitable place,' she said, her voice flat and toneless.