"Barry B. Longyear - Homecoming" - читать интересную книгу автора (Longyear Barry)

Force's argument for the combined shuttle, not to mention the new
bomber, and theтАФ "

The door opened, a pair of socks flew out, and the door slammed shut.

*****
Wearing one regulation blue and one not-so-regulation yellow and red
Argyle sock in addition to his uniform, Captain Carl F. Baxter pulled away
in the blue staff car assigned to him. He came to the cross-street stop sign,
screeched to a halt, and rummaged through the glove compartment for his
electric shaver. A honk came from behind, and Baxter looked over the top
of the headrest to check the honker's rank. Seeing only single golden bars,
he returned to his search. Damned thing has got to be in here.

His hand closed on the ancient Remington, a gift from his
mother-in-law, and he sat up and removed the cap. The driver behind
honked again, and Baxter extended a finger in the Hawaiian good luck
tradition, then returned to the shaver. With an angry squeal of tires, the
lieutenant pulled around Baxter's car, ignored the stop sign, and pulled
out onto the base's main drag. With his shaver humming, Baxter pulled
out and turned right.

Baxter caught a flash of a sign, "ODQтАФD7," recalling Deb's comment
when she first saw it. "This is our new home? Oh, I like the name; it's so
much nicer than Hollywood Hills or Sutton Place." He snorted and leaned
on the accelerator as he came abreast of the parking ramp for the
experimental aircraft. Deb was ready with a comment for that, too. "Oh,
what a nice view тАФBaxter, I want a divorce!" She didn't really, but she was
not happy, and neither was Baxter. An experienced test pilot, he had left
the Air Force during the testing cutbacks of the late sixties to begin his
own advertising agency. As a reserve officer, he had assumed that, if he
ever was called up, it would be as a pilot. But, the Air Force had found his
advertising skills much more desirable, and dropped him in public
relations. Baxter glanced out of the side window at the black,
needle-pointed craft on the ramp being readied for a test. Dammit, it is a
beautiful view!

He turned back to his driving and concentrated on missing the larger
pieces of traffic. The Congressional delegation would show up in two days,
and the presentation on the combined shuttle was still in search of a
theme тАФor at least a theme less obvious than "Gimmie bucks!"

Then, there was the still the planning board in town to deal with. The
proposed recruiting facility violated the town's zoning ordinances, and it
was feather-smoothing time. Even though Federal departments aren't
obligated to be governed by local zoning regulations, bad press is still bad
press. The theme: cram the new facility down their throats, but in a
manner that makes it look like the Air Force is doing the town a big favor.

The Concerned Women from town still had to have a number done on