"A. E. Van Vogt - The Rat & the Snake & Other Stories" - читать интересную книгу автора (Van Vogt A E)

curtly rejected the request.
Whereupon he made a personal thing out of it. "And don't get any
ideas," he snarled. "Stay away from our rats. If we catch you filching
around here, we'll have the law on you."
Until those words were spoken, Mark hadn't really thought about
becoming a rat-stealing criminal. Except for his peculiar love for his
python, he was a law-abiding, tax-paying nobody.
 As Mark was leaving, Plode hastily sent a man to follow him. Then,
smiling grimly, he walked into an office that had printed on the door:
HENRY GARRON, Private.
"Well, Hank," he said gaily. "I think we've got our subject."
Carron said, "This had better be good since we can't even get
prisoners of war assigned us for the job."
The remark made Plode frown a little. He had a tendency toward ironic
thoughts, and he had often thought recently, "Good God they're going to
use the process on millions of the unsuspecting enemy after we get it
tested, but they won't give us a G.D. so-and-so to try it out on because
of some kind of prisoner of war convention."
Aloud, he said smugly, "I suppose by a stretch of the imagination you
could call him human.'
"That bad?"
Plode described Mark and his hobby, finished, "I suppose it'a a
matter of point of view, But I won't feel any guilt, particularly if he
sneaks over tonight and with criminal intent tries to steal some of our
rats." He grinned mirthlessly, "Can you think of anything lower than a rat
stealer?"
Henry Carron hesitated but only for moments. Millons of people were
dead and dying, and a test absolutely had to be made on a human being.
Because if something went wrong on the battlefield, the effect of surprise
might be lost with who knew what repercussions.
"One thing sure," he nodded "there'll be no evidence against us. So
go ahead."
It seemed to Mark, as he came stealthily back that night, that these
people with their thousands of rats would never miss the equivalent of one
rat a week or so, He was especially pleased when he discovered that the
window was unlocked and that the menagerie was unguarded. No doubt, he
thought good-humoredly, babysitters for rats were in scarce supply because
of the wartime worker shortage.
The next day he thrilled again to the familiar sound of a rat
squeaking in fear of the python. Toward evening his phone rang. It was
Erie Plode.
"I warned you," said the small man in a vicious tone. "Now you must
pay the penalty."
Plode felt better for having issued the warning. "Be it on his own
soul," he said sanctimoniously, "if he's there."
Mark hung up, contemptuous. Let them try to prove anything.
In his sleep that night he seemed to be suffocating. He woke up, and
he was not lying on his bed but instead was on a hard floor. He groped for
the light switch but could not find it. Them was a bright rectangle of
light about twenty feet away. He headed for it.