"C M Kornbluth - The Goodly Creatures" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kornbluth C M)

"So you're specially interested in space travel?" he asked.



"Oh, very much. I know I failed to get it over in this; it's all second-hand. I've never been off. But
nobody's really written well about it yetтАФ" He froze.
 His terrible secret, Farwell supposed with amusement, was that he hoped to be the laureate of space
flight. Well, if he wasn't absolutely impossible, Greenhough and Brady could



give him a try. Shabby as he was, he wouldn't dare quibble about the pay.



He didn't quibble. He told Farwell he could get along on it nicely, he had a room in the run-down
sub-Bohemian near north side of town. He was from San Francisco, but had left home years
agoтАФFarwell got the idea that he'd run awayтАФ and been in a lot of places. He'd held a lot of menial
jobs and picked up a few credits taking night college courses here and there. After a while Farwell told
him he was hired and to see the girl for his withholding tax and personnel data forms.



He buzzed his copy chief about the boy and leaned back in good humor. Angelo could1 never get to be
an accounts man, of course, but he had some talent and imagination. Tame it and the kid could grow into
a good producer. A rocket fan would be handy to have around if Sales stuck Ops with any more lemons
like Chicago Chair.



Worple drank that night at the Mars Room like a man with a hollow leg and Farwell more or less had to
go along with him. He got the Kumfyseets item planted but arrived at the office late and queasy as
McGuffy, the copy chief, was bawling out Angelo for showing up in a plaid shirt, and a dirty one at that.



McGuffy came in to see him at 4:30 to ask about Angelo. "He just doesn't seem to be a Greenhough
and Brady man, J. F. Of course if you think he's got something on the ball, that's good enough for me.
But, honestly, can you see him taking an account to lunch?"



"Is he really getting in your hair, Mac? Give him a few days."



McGuffy was back at the end of the week, raging. "He showed me a poem, J. F. A sonnet about Mars.