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

"General who?"
Maxwell pursed his lips, cast an oblique look at Blondel. "After what you've been through, I
assume you're ready to join the fight in an active capacity?"
"Urn," Blondel said. Maxwell nodded, as though this were the countersign. "As I told you
earlier," he said, "there were some of us who were not entirely unprepared for the present
situation."
"By the way, what is the present situation?" Blondel cut in. "How much of a beachhead have
they established? What's our side doing?"
"The enemy controls New York, Philly, Boston - - the whole eastern seaboard, as far as we've
been able to reconnoitre," Maxwell said gruffly. "Every city and town seems to have its quota of
the scoundrels."
"Where have we hit back? Are their troops on the move? Any armor? What about air action?
Any infantry dropping in to secure the ground?"
"Curiously, they seem content for the present merely to, er, occupy the country," Maxwell
conceded.
"They're content? What about us -- has there been much bloodshed?"
Maxwell shook his head. "Not yet -- insofar as we know."
"What's the Pentagon doing?"
"Nothing." Maxwell clamped his jaw. "There hasn't been a peep from Washington. We did have
a verbal report from a pair of refugee bureaucrats that the capital is heavily invested by the
enemy and that the President was last seen headed west in a used station wagon - - but of course,
that's merely hearsay."
"What about our allies - - Britain, Liberia, Tierra del Fuego?"
"You forgot Lebanon." Maxwell looked grave. "All occupied, it appears. None of them have
cashed their first- of-the- month aid checks."
 "This is really serious!" Blondel exclaimed.
Just then the radio went beep! and a fruity voice said: "Hi, fans! This is Happy Horinip, with
your latest Progress Bulletin! It's a pleasure to report that Block 354, Zone 67 - - remember to
look at your wall chart, if the new terminology is still a little confusing - - Block 354 is the winner
of this hour's co- op award! Yes sir, Block 354 has topped some keen competition to fulfill their
registration quota a record four minutes, twelve seconds early! Congrats, Block 354, and there'll
be an official Quota Toppers club emblem and pennant on the way to you ... "
"Is that ... ?"
"That's them," Maxwell said grimly over the patter. "They've adopted this approach on all their
late-night spots. Early in the morning, they use what we've designated the HTM - - Hi There Moms
-- format, and at 4:46 P.M. they switch to code AYC -- All You Commuters. Our top psych men are
trying to crack the implication of it but, so far, no luck."
" ... now for a couple of requests." The Monitor's voice was still registering barely suppressed
elation. "Here's a card signed Bunny and Whitey ... " Maxwell whipped out a notebook, began
writing, his head cocked to the speaker.
"Bunny," he muttered. "We're compiling a master list of collaborationists," he said over his
shoulder. "Whitey. ... We already have over seven hundred thousand names on it, and that's after
less than thirty- six hours." He closed the book with a snap and looked resolute. "After the
Liberation, we'll see about some of these fellow travelers."
"What outfit are you with?" Blondel yelled over the thump and jangle of the record Bunny and
Whitey had requested.
"Blondel, have you ever heard of the Special Counter Retaliatory Action Group?" Maxwell
looked solemn.
"Nope."
"We in SCRAG," Maxwell said, "have, for over two years, had as our prime mission preparation