"Mack Reynolds - After Utopia" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

The three of themтАФthe girlтАЩs name, it turned out, was
Betty SteinтАФaccompanied him to the terrace, treating
him as though he were porcelain. Tracy Cogswell was
still weak, but he was alert enough now to be impatient
and curious.
He said, тАЬMy elbow.тАЭ
Academician Stein fluttered over him. тАЬDonтАЩt overdo,
Tracy Cogswell, donтАЩt overdo.тАЭ
Jo Edmonds grinned, and, turning on his charm, said,
тАЬWe had your elbow and various other, ah, deficiencies
taken care of before we woke you.тАЭ
Tracy was about to say тАЬWhere am I?тАЭ but he knew
where he was. Something strange was going on but he
knew where he was. He was within a few miles of
Tangier proper and in the strangest house heтАЩd ever seen,
and certainly the most luxurious. For a moment that fact
struck him. He was, on the face of it, in the hands of the
opposition. Only a multimillionaire could afford this sort
of an establishment, and none of the ultra wealthy were
sympathetic to the movement.
He considered Jo EdmondsтАЩ words and accepted them.
But he realized the implications of accepting them. HeтАЩd
had that arm worked on in London by a man who was an
organization sympathizer and possibly the worldтАЩs
outstanding practitioner in the field. He had saved the
elbow, but let Tracy know it would never be strong again.
Now it was strong.
By the third day, he was up and around and beginning
to consider his position and how to escape from it. He
kept his mind from some of the more far-out aspects of
the thing. Explanations would come later. For now, he
wanted to evaluate his situation.
He didnтАЩt seem to be a prisoner, but that was beside
the point. You didnтАЩt have to have steel bars to be under
duress. The three oddly garbed characters who had him
here seemed to be of good will, but Tracy Cogswell was
experienced enough in world political movements to know
that the same man who sentenced you to the gas
chamber or firing squad could be a gentle soul who loved
his children and spent his spare time puttering happily in
a rock garden.
There were a few moderately wealthy persons in the
movement but certainly no one this wealthy. He was in
the hands of the enemy, and, considering the amount of
trouble they had gone to, there was something big in the
wind.
He wondered about the possibilities of escape. No, not
yet. For one thing, heтАЩd never make it. He was still too
weak, particularly if he had to fight his way out. For
another thing, he had to find out what was happening.