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

world, on both sides of the Curtain.
For a moment, he considered taking an amphetamine
and knocking out some more work, but decided against
it. That wasnтАЩt the way. Over a period of time you got
more done without resorting to lifters, and Tracy
Cogswell was trained in the long view.
He considered the pamphlet sitting on the coffee table
next to his reading chair. It was an early work of the
older Liebknecht, and Cogswell wasnтАЩt finding the going
particularly easy, largely because he didnтАЩt know very
much about what the situation in Imperial Germany had
been before the turn of the century. However, in its way
it was a classic, and Cogswell, though not a scholar by
inclination, worked at acquiring a good foundation.
He decided that he was too groggy to concentrate on
political economy, put his beret on his head, and left the
room. Come to think of it, he hadnтАЩt been out all day and
that didnтАЩt pay off. HeтАЩd wind up in a mental rut and
there were too many people depending on his staying out
of ruts. It was not by error that Tracy Cogswell was
working full-time in the movement as a sort of
international clearinghouse.
The apartment was a fifth floor walkup. During the
three years that Cogswell had lived here, heтАЩd had no
visitors other than the plumber and, once, an electrician.
And each time theyтАЩd appeared heтАЩd gone to considerable
trouble to alter the apartmentтАЩs usual appearance, to
make it look a bit less than what it really was. On the
occasion where it was necessary to make explanations,
Tracy put himself over as an unsuccessful writer, always
at work on his serious novel. But the layout of his
apartment was different from what even the most
extensive researcher among writers might utilize. Too
many files, too many stacks of mimeograph paper, too
many pamphlets, leaflets, brochures; and his library was
heavy with political economy, practically bare of
anything else save a certain amount of history and
reference.
Ordinarily, the recreation Cogswell allowed himself
was rather limited to attending the local cinema. In the
movies one can relax mentally and physicallyтАФand
anonymously. Tonight, however, he had no desire for the
Hollywood never-never land.
He walked down Rue Dr. Fumey to Rue De La Croix
and turned right up to Mousa ben Nusair and the Bar
Novara. This was the French section of town, and, except
for an occasional haik clad, veiled fatima on her way
home from a maidтАЩs job, you could have thought yourself
in Southern France.
Paul LundтАЩs bar had few claims to uniqueness so far as