"Keith Laumer - The Monitors" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laumer Keith)

"It's Chillsville, pop. Like a joint direct from the hand of the Big Pusher in the Sky!" Pleech
enthused.
"Listen," Blondel said, "we've got to get out of here." He went past him and looked along the
side of the house toward the rear. Maybe it was a little darker back there and maybe not.
"You're not bagging it, gramps! I'm all for these kids! They're swingers, square threads and all!
Like their word is: a pad for every cat, and a chick in every pad!"
"I thought the chicken went in the pot," Blondel corrected, "and two cars in every garage."
Pleech looked dubious. "I heard of cutting it with a little chicory and shredded Sunday funnies,
but feathers are a new kick." He frowned. "What was that line about getting out of here?"
"I was pulling your leg. Go on with your reading. I was just looking for the root cellar."
"Cool it, dad." Pleech dropped the book and slouched over to stand between Blondel and the
door. "You think these cubies are lining us? Like maybe it's just a ride on the dreamy?"
"I'll let you know after I cast my horoscope. Meanwhile don't go into any business deals without
first checking them closely, and beware of smooth- talking Capricorns." Blondel started past
Pleech, who put his back against the wall by the door. One hand dipped inside his black shirt and
came out with a three-inch spring blade. He pointed it at Blondel and curved his mouth in a cat-
smile.
"Don't go making no waves, pops," he said. His tone was a lot more businesslike now. "What's
with the snoop routine? You not splitting without saying hang loose?"
"How'd they happen to pick you up?" Blondel stalled.
"Some flattie in yellow threads like bugs me, man. I bugged him back. But that was when I
didn't dig the scene. Now I can see its Groovesville all the way. Like, we're in, dad. So don't go
breaking the scene with no like reactionary hang- ups."
"I hear they plan to remove our brains and install monkey glands. That might boost your I.Q. a
little, but would it be the real you?"
"Hand me back my leg, man. Me and old Jitters are making it good; we're like pals. And lay off
the cracks about my intellect, which is of the highest." He poked the knife out just far enough;
Blondel brought a hard chop down on the pressure point just below the elbow. Pleech yipped and
the knife dropped; when he ducked for it, Blondel gave him a sharp knee under the ear. Pleech
went backward and sat up holding his jaw.
"You knocked my tooth out," he reported.
"Put it under your pillow for the good fairy to find," Blondel suggested. "Now you'd better move
over to that closet." He indicated a door across the room. Pleech rolled his eyes and hunched his
way back to it. Inside, there were shelves stacked with paper and office supplies, including two-
inch paper tape. Blondel bound Pleech's wrists and ankles with the latter, then strapped his hands
behind him.
"Open up," he ordered. Pleech gave him a startled look and dropped his jaw. "Hey - - "
"Thanks." Blondel jammed an art- gum inside, then taped his mouth, not neglecting a couple of
loops over the mop of hair and under the chin.
"You may have to shave the beard to get rid of that," he advised, "but try to think of it as being
better than a cut throat." Blondel shoved the trussed collaborator in among the duplicator fluid
cans on the floor and went softly back out into the silent hall.
Blondel followed the corridor back past the dining room, took a right turn, and found himself in
the kitchen. A fat man with apple cheeks and a white chef's cap beamed at him and went on
kneading a table full of dough. Blondel backed out, soft- footed on along the hall, through a dark
room full of potted rubber plants and marble - topped tables, emerged in a room with fancy
chandeliers, and a set of curtained French doors that opened silently onto a terrace. A pair of red
coleus plants in wooden tubs provided a patch of dense shadow in which to stand.
Out on the lawn, Monitors strolled in leisurely fashion, taking the evening air. Beyond them, the
high, dark barrier of the hedge loomed, fifty yards away.