"Arkady & Boris Strugatsky - Roadside Picnic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Strugatski Arkady)

I kicked him in his bare can and dove into my stall and locked the door. Damn my nerves. I was
seeing things there, and now I was seeing them here. The hell with it all! I'd get tanked up tonight. I'd
really like to beat Richard, that's what I'd like. That bum can really play cards. Can't beat him with any
hand. I tried reshuffling, even blessing them under the table.
"Kirill," I shouted. "Are you going to the Borscht tonight?"
"It's not the 'Borscht,' it's pronounced 'Borshch.' How many times do I have to tell you."
"Skip it. It's spelled B-O-R-S-C-H-T. Don't bug us with your customs. Are you going or not? I'd
love to beat Richard."
"Oh, I don't know, Red. You simple soul, you don't understand what it is we've brought back."
"And I suppose you do?"
"Well, I don't either. That's true. But now for the first time we know what the empties are for, and if
my bright idea works, I'll write a monograph. I'll dedicate it to you personally: To Redrick Schuhart,
honored stalker, with respect and gratitude."
"And they'll put me away for two years."
"But you'll go down in science. That's what they'll call it, 'Schuhart's Jar.' Like the sound of it?"
 While we were bulling, I dressed. I put the empty flask in my pocket, counted my money, and left.
"Good luck, you complicated soul."
He didn't answer. The water was making a lot of noise.
There was Tender in person in the corridor. Red and puffed up like a turkey. Surrounded by
coworkers, reporters, and a couple of sergeants (fresh from eating and picking their teeth), he was
babbling on and on. "The technology that we command," he blathered, "almost completely guarantees
success and safety." Then he saw me and dried up a bit. He smiled and made little waving motions with
his hand. Well, I'd better split, I thought. I made for the door, but they caught me. I heard footsteps
behind me.
"Mr. Schuhart! Mr. Schuhart! A few words about the garage!"
"No comment." I broke into a run. But there was no getting away. There was one with a mike on my
right, and another with a camera on my left.
"Did you see anything strange in the garage. Just two words!"
"No comment!" I said, trying to keep the back of my head to the camera. "It's just a garage."
"Thank you. How do you feel about turboplatforms?"
"Most wonderful." I started edging toward the John.
"What do you think about the Visitation?"
"Ask the scientists," I said, and slid behind the bathroom door.
I could hear them scratching at the door. So I called out: "I heartily recommend that you ask Mr.
Tender how his nose came to look like a beet. He's too modest to bring it up, but that was our most
interesting adventure there."
They shot down the corridor. Faster than racehorses. I waited a minute. Silence. Stuck out my head.
Nobody. And I went on my way, whistling a tune. I went down to the lobby, showed my pass to the
bean-pole sergeant, and saw that he was saluting me. I guess I was the hero of the day.
"At ease, sergeant," I said. "I'm pleased."
He showed so many teeth, you'd think I was flattering him beyond all reason.
"Well, Red, you sure are a hero. I'm proud to know you," he said.
"So now you'll have something to tell the girls about back in Sweden?"
"You bet! They'll just melt in my arms!"
I guess he's right. To tell the truth, I don't like guys who are that tall and rosy-cheeked. Women go
nuts over them, and I don't know why. Height is not the important thing. I was walking down the street
and thinking along these lines. The sun was shining and there was no one around. And suddenly I wanted
to see Guta right then and there. Just like that. To look at her and hold her hand a while. After the Zone
that's about all you can manageтАФto hold hands. Especially when you think of those stories about what
stalkers' children turn out like тАж Who needs Guta now? What I really needed was a bottle, at least a