"Keith Laumer - The Lighter Side" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laumer Keith)

After Galpert left on the wheel, Hestler aired the queuebana for another ten minutes, standing
stony-faced, arms folded, staring at the back of One Up. His father had told him some stories
about One Up, back in the old days, when they'd both been young fellows, near the end of the
Line. Seemed he'd been quite a cutup in those days, always joking around with the women close
to him in Line, offering to trade Places for a certain consideration. You didn't see many signs of
that now: just a dumpy old man in burst-out shoe-leather, sweating out the Line. But he himself
was lucky, Hestler reflected. He'd taken over from Father when the latter had had his stroke, a
twenty-one thousand two hundred and ninety-four slot jump. Not many young fellows did that
well. Not that he was all that young, he'd put in his time in the Line, it wasn't as if he didn't
deserve the break.
And now, in a few hours maybe, he'd hit the Head of the Line. He touched the lockbox that
contained the old man's Papers-and of course his own, and Cluster's and the kids'-everything. In a
few hours, if the Line kept moving, he could relax, retire, let the kids, with their own Places in
Line, carry on. Let them do as well as their dad had done, making Head of the Line at under
forty-five!
Inside his queuebana it was hot, airless. Hestler pulled off his coat and squatted in the crouch-
hammock-not the most comfortable position in the world, maybe, but in full compliance with the
Q-law requirement that at least one foot be on the ground at all times, and the head higher than
the waist. Hestler remembered an incident years before, when some poor devil without a
queuebana had gone to sleep standing up. He'd stood with his eyes closed and his knees bent, and
slowly sunk down to a squat; then bobbed slowly up and blinked and went back to sleep. Up and
down, they'd watched him for an hour before he finally let his head drop lower than his belt.
They'd pitched him out of Line then, and closed ranks. Ah, there'd been some wild times in the
queue in the old days, not like now. There was too much at stake now, this near the Head. No
time for horseplay.
Just before dusk, the Line moved up. Three to go! Hestler's heart thumped.
It was dark when he heard the voice whisper: "Four Up!"
Hestler jerked wide awake. He blinked, wondering if he'd dreamed the urgent tone.
"Four Up!" the voice hissed again. Hestler twitched the curtain open, saw nothing, pulled his
head back in. Then he saw the pale, pinched face, the bulging eyes of Four Back, peering through
the vent slot at the rear of the tent.
"You have to help me," the little man said. "You saw what happened, you can make a
deposition that I was cheated, that-"
"Look here, what are you doing out of Line?" Hestler cut in. "I know you're on-shift, why
aren't you holding down a new slot?"
"I . . . I couldn't face it," Four Back said brokenly. "My wife, my children-they're all counting
on me."
"You should have thought of that sooner."
"I swear I couldn't help it. It just hit me so suddenly. And-"
"You lost your Place. There's nothing I can do."
"If I have to start over now-I'll be over seventy when I get to the Window!"
"That's not my lookout-"
" . . . but if you'll just tell the Line Police what happened, explain about my special case-"
"You're crazy, I can't do that!"
 "But you . . . I always thought you looked like a decent sort-"
"You'd better go. Suppose someone sees me talking to you?"
"I had to speak to you here, I don't know your name, but after all we've been four Spaces
apart in Line for nine years-"
"Go away! Before I call a Line cop!"
Hestler had a hard time getting comfortable again after Four Back left. There was a fly inside