"Mack Reynolds - Day After Tomorrow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack) Scanned by Highroller.
Proofed by an Unsung Hero. Made prettier by use of EBook Design Group Stylesheet. Day After Tomorrow Mack Reynolds I Government employees in his income bracket and the suburb in which he lived were currently wearing tweeds. Tweeds were all the thing. Tweeds were in. You weren't with it if you wore anything else. Lawrence Woolford consequently wore tweeds. His suit, this morning, had first seen the light of day on a hand loom in Donegal, Ireland. It had been cut by a Swede widely patronized by serious young career men in Lawrence Woolford's status group. These days, English tailors were out and Italians absolutely unheard of. Woolford sauntered down the walk before his auto-bungalow, scowling at the sportscar at the curbтАФwrong year, wrong make. Thanks to the powers that be, it was still the right three-tone color. But he'd have to trade it in on a new model. It was a shame in a wayтАФhe liked the car. However, he had no desire to get a reputation as a weird among colleagues and friends. What was it Senator Carey McArthur had said the other day? Show me a weird and I'll show you a person who has taken the first step toward being a Commie. Woolford slid under the wheel, dropped the lift lever, depressed the thrust pedal gently and took off for downtown Greater Washington. Theoretically, he had another four days of vacation coming to him. He wondered what the Boss wanted. That was the trouble in being one of the Boss' favorite trouble-shooters; when trouble arose you wound up in the middle of it. Whether you wanted to or not. Lawrence Woolford was to the point where he was thinking in terms of graduating out of field work and taking a desk job, which meant promotion in status and pay. He had to like it. He turned over his car to a parker at the departmental parking lot and made his way through the entrance utilized by secondgrade departmental officials. In another year, he told himself, he'd be using that other door. The Boss' secretary looked up when Lawrence Woolford entered the anteroom where she presided. "Hello, Larry," she said. "Hear they called |
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