"Pohl, Frederik - Best of Frederik Pohl" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pohl Frederick)

"I know enough!" -

Alden said sternly, "Family, Mary Lynne! Marriage isn't just between two people. We come of good stock and we can't marry just anybody. Think of the children you may have! Our family-"
"Our family!" echoed his sister. "What's so special about our family? How many times have you said that Aunt Nora-"
"Mary Lynne!" Alden warned. She paused. He said, "No offense, Mr. Croy. But what do we know? You may be after her money, for all we can tell."
The large man cleared his throat and straightened the crease in his Bermudas. He said modestly, "I assure you, Mr. Edkin, I am not interested in money."
"But you'd say that anyhow. Wouldn't you? Not that there's much cash. But there's this big house-Mary Lynne's and mine. And, Mary, you have to think of what Mother and Dad would want. They didn't leave you this big house-it will be yours when I'm gone-so that some adventurer could come along and-"
"Alden!" Mary Lynne was furious. She turned to the man she loved apologetically, but he was merely looking politely concerned. She whirled on her brother. "Apologize to Jimmy!"
There was a marked silence.
"Well," said her brother at last, talking to the wall, "there's one good thing. Being that she's under age, she can't-"
He stopped and waited.
They all waited. The big house that Mother and Dad had left them happened to be on the lip of the takeoff pits for the Moon rocket. The screeching howl of the night rocket's takeoff rattled the windows and made the trivision set moan shrilly in resonance.
But it only lasted for a few seconds.
"-can't get married without my consent," Alden Edkin finished. "Alden!" cried his sister again, but it was more a sob than a protest. Alden Edkin merely looked obstinate. He was good at it.

James Croy cleared his throat. "Sir," he said, "I know that what you say is true. We cannot marry without your consent. I hope that you'll give it."
"Don't hold your breath." Edkin sat down and glanced longingly at the trivision set. "As I say, we don't know anything about you."
"That's easily taken care of, Mr. Edkin," said Croy, smiling. "I'm
an orphan. No ties, no family. Until recently, I was a draftsman for Amalgamated Luna, in the rocket engine department."
"Until recently? You don't even have a job?"
"Not exactly, sir. But I was fortunate enough to design a rather good firing chamber. They've adopted it for the Mars rocket."
Edkin nodded thoughtfully. "You sold them the design?"
Croy shook his head. "Not outright. But the royalties are-well, ample. I assure you that I can support Mary Lynne in adequate style. And I should mention that the royalty contract runs for thirty years, with cost-of-living increases."
"Urn." Alden Edkin found that he was beginning to relax slightly. This Croy was, in his way, not without a certain charm.
Edkin said in a warmer tone, "Well, money isn't the only consideration. Still . . . Say, what about making some coffee, Mary Lynne? I'm sure our guest would enjoy it."
She looked at him in some surprise, shrugged, patted her proposed fiancщ's arm and left the room.
Edkin said, "I hope you won't pay any attention to what Mary Lynne said about Aunt Nora."
"Of course not," said Croy and smiled. He had a very nice smile. His eyes were deep-set, somber and serious, and the smile beneath them was like sunlight bursting out from under a cloud.
Edkin was momentarily dazzled. He shook his head to clear it; for a second, he had almost thought he could see through the man. But that was nonsense.
Croy was saying, "I don't drink coffee, Mr. Edkin, but I'm glad Mary Lynne's out of the room. I hope we can get better acquainted."
"Sure," said Edkin testily. "Well, sit down and tell me something about yourself. Where was your family when you had one?"
"We're originally from Portland, Mr. Edkin."
"Portland, Maine? Say, I was stationed near Presq'Isle when I was in the Army."
"No," said Croy regretfully, "Portland, Oregon. After my parents passed away, I attended several schools, graduating from the University of California."
"Oh, we know lots of people there!" exclaimed Edkin. "Our cousins on my mother's side have some friends who teach at Berkeley. Perhaps you know them-Harold Sizeland and-"
"Sorry," Croy apologized. "I was at the Los Angeles campus. But let's not talk about me, Mr. Edkin. Mary Lynne tells me you're in credit maintenance."
"That's right." Actually he was a loan collector; it was close enough.
Croy leaned confidentially closer. "You can help me, Mr. Edkin. I'm planning a sort of surprise for Mary Lynne."
"Surprise?"
"Here," said Croy, reaching into his pocket. Hs pulled out several sheets of legal cap, stapled into a blue folder. "Since you're in the financial line," he said, "you'll know if this is all right. What it is, it's a kind of trust agreement for Mary Lynne."
Edkin scowled. "You're taking a lot for granted, Croy. I haven't agreed to anything."
"Of course not. But won't you look this over for me? You see, it puts all the royalties from my firing chamber in her name. Irrevocably. So that if anything happened to me, or there was, well, anything serious-" he didn't say the word "divorce," but he shrugged it-"she'Il be well provided for. I'd appreciate your opinion of the contract."
Edkin glanced at the papers suspiciously.
He was ready to stand up and order from the house this brash young giant who interrupted his trivision programs and proposed to carry off his sister. But something hit him in the eye. And what that something happened to be was a neatly typed line specifying Mary Lynne's guaranteed minimum annual income from the trust agreement.
Thirty-five thousand dollars a year.
Edkin swallowed.
Attached to the certificate of agreement was a notarized copy of the Amalgamated Luna royalty contract. Unless it was a fake, the thirty-five-thousand-dollar figure was exactly right.
Mary Lynne came back into the room, and nearly dropped the coffee tray.
"Hi there, Mary Lynne!" greeted her brother, looking up from where he was patting Croy on the shoulder. "Coffee, eh? Good!"
She stared at him unbelievingly. He bobbed his head, winked conspiratorially at Croy, jammed the papers in his pocket and stood up.