"C M Kornbluth - The Altar At Midnight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kornbluth C M)

"All over, ma'am," the kid told her in a miserable voice. "But I'm going to quit before I get a Bowman
Head."



I took a savage gulp at the raw Scotch.
"I don't care," said Maggie Rorty. "I think he's cute."



"Compared withтАФ" Paddy began, but I kicked him under the table.



We sang for a while, and then we told gags and recited limericks for a while, and I noticed that the kid
and Maggie had wandered into the back roomтАФthe one with the latch on the door.



Oswiak's wife asked me, very puzzled: "Doc, w'y dey do dot flyink by planyets?"



"It's the damn govermint," Sam Fireman said.



"Why not?" I said. "They got theBowman Drive, why the hell shouldn't they use it? Serves 'em right." I
had a double Scotch and added: "Twenty years of it and they found out a few things they didn't know.
Redlines are only one of them. Twenty years more, maybe they'll find out a few more things they didn't
know. Maybe by the time there's a bathtub in every American home and an alcoholism clinic in every
American town, they'll find out a whole lot of things they didn't know. And every American boy will be a
pop-eyed, blood-raddled wreck, like our friend here, from riding the Bowman Drive."



"It's the damn govermint," Sam Fireman repeated.



"And what the hell did you mean by that remark about alcoholism?" Paddy said, real sore. "Personally, I
can take it or leave it alone."



So we got to talking about that and everybody there turned out to be people who could take it or leave
it alone.