"George R. R. Martin - WC 1 - Wild Cards" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin George R R)

he said. "Where was I?"
"The Krauts killed Silverberg, and Jetboy got even. He went to Canada, right?"
"Joined the RCAF, unofficially. Fought in the Battle of Britain, went to China
against the Japs with the Tigers, was back in Britain for Pearl Harbor."
"And Roosevelt commissioned him?"
"Sort of. You know, funny thing about his whole career. He fights the whole war,
longer than any other American-late '39 to '45--then right at the end, he gets
lost in the Pacific, missing. We all think he's dead for a year. Then they find
him on that desert island last month, and now he's coming home." There was a
high, thin whine like a prop plane in a dive. It came from the foggy skies
outside. Scoop put out his third Camel. "How can he land in this soup?"
"He's got an all-weather radar set-got it off a German night fighter back in
'43. He could land that plane in a circus tent at midnight."
They went to the door. Two landing lights pierced the rolling mist. They lowered
to the far end of the runway, turned, and came back on the taxi strip.
The red fuselage glowed in the gray-shrouded lights of the airstrip. The
twin-engine high-wing plane turned toward them and rolled to a stop.
Linc Traynor put a set of double chocks under each of the two rear tricycle
landing gears. Half the glass nose of the plane levered up and pulled back. The
plane had four 20mm cannon snouts in the wing roots between the engines, and a
75mm gunport below and to the left of the cockpit rim.
It had a high thin rudder, and the rear elevators were shaped like the tail of a
brook trout. Under each of the elevators was the muzzle of a rear-firing machine
gun. The only markings on the plane were four nonstandard USAAF stars in a black
roundel, and the serial number JB-1 on the top right and bottom left wings and
beneath the rudder.
The radar antennae on the nose looked like something to roast weenies on.
A boy dressed in red pants, white shirt, and a blue helmet and goggles stepped
out of the cockpit and onto the dropladder on the left side.
He was nineteen, maybe twenty. He took off his helmet and goggles. He had curly
mousy brown hair, hazel eyes, and was short and chunky.
Linc," he said. He hugged the pudgy man to him, patted his back for a full
minute. Scoop snapped off a shot. "Great to have you back, Bobby, said Linc.
"Nobody's called me that in years," he said. "It sounds real good to hear it
again."
"This is Scoop Swanson," said line. "He's gonna make you famous all over again."
"I'd rather be asleep." He shook the reporter's hand. "Any place around here we
can get some ham and eggs?"
The launch pulled up to the dock in the fog. Out in the harbor a ship finished
cleaning its bilges and was turning to steam back southward.
There were three men on the mooring: Fred and Ed and Filmore. One man stepped
out of the launch with a suitcase in his hands. Filmore leaned down and gave the
guy at the wheel of the motorboat a Lincoln and two Jacksons. Then he helped the


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guy with the suitcase.
"Welcome home, Dr. Tod."