"James White - Custom Fitting" - читать интересную книгу автора (White James)

Hewlitt ignored him and said to Scrennagle, "You can rely on my discretion, sir."

"I know that," said Scrennagle. Turning so that he could see Fox in the fitting-room mirror, he went on:
"A certain amount of curiosity is natural in these circumstances, and if Mr. Hewlitt has been entrusted
with the secret of my presence in this city, surely the reason for my being here is a minor additional
confidence which should not overstrain his capacity forтАФ"

"With respect, Your Excellency," said Fox, "these matters must not be made public until all the necessary
preparations have been made."

Hewlitt wrote Girth at forelegs, 46 inches. Controlling his exasperation, he said, "If the material, finish,
and decoration of these garments are to fit the occasionтАФan important occasion no doubtтАФI really
should be told something about it."

There was silence for a moment, then Scrennagle and his translation device made noises which were
possibly the equivalent of clearing an alien throat. His head went up and he stood very still as he said, "As
the accredited representative of Dutha and of the Galactic Federation on Earth, I shall be presenting my
credentials at the Court of St. James with the usual attendant ceremonies. In the evening of the same day
there will be a reception at which the Sovereign will also be present. Although I am officially only an
ambassador, the honors will be similar to those accorded a visiting head of state. The reception will be
covered by the media, and interviews will be given following the official..."

Hewlitt was no longer listening to him. His sense of outrage was so great that no word could filter through
to his mind with any meaning in it. Quietly he excused himself to Scrennagle; then to Fox he said, "Could
I have a private word with you, outside?"

Without waiting for a reply he stalked out of the fitting room and across to the door, which he held open
so that Fox could precede him into the hallway. Then he closed the door firmly, so firmly that the glass
shattered and tinkled onto the porch tiling.

"And for this," he whispered fiercely, "you want me to make aтАФa horse blanket?"

Just as fiercely, Fox replied, "Believe it or not, I sympathize with your feelings. But this could be the most
important event in human history and it must go well! Not just for Scrennagle's sake. What we do here
will be the yardstick, the example, for embassies all over the world; and they must have no room for
criticism. Some of them will feel that they should have had the first visit, and would welcome the chance
to criticize. They must not be given that chance."

One of the Special Branch men in the too-clean overalls came onto the porch, attracted by the sound of
breaking glass. Fox waved him away, then went on, "Of course he should wear more than a horse
blanket. I know that as well as you do. But I didn't want you to know how important this is. Apart from
the danger of a leak, a very small risk in your case, I didn't want you to worry about the job so much that
you would go to pieces.

"At the same time," he went on harshly, "we cannot afford to have him appear ridiculous, to look like a
cross between a dressed-up horse and a tail-coated chimpanzee from a circus. He is far too important an
individual, and this is much too important an occasion for our planet and our race, for us to risk anything
going wrong."