"Robert F. Young - The Bluebird Planet" - читать интересную книгу автора (Young Robert F)

division took over the task of preparing the first cooked meal the class had had since leaving Earth.
Everyone got in each other's way, and Miss Mintz found herself involved in a chaos of kids whose
appetites had merely been stimulated by the condensed breakfast, lunch, and dinner tablets which
Excursion Lines, Inc., called food, but presently the chaos gave way to a semblance of order and after
awhile the aroma of pork chops and scalloped potatoes rode appetizingly on the night air of Deneb 6.
Miss Mintz was afraid, at first, that Mr. Burke had forgotten her invitation, and she was relieved
when she finally saw him come striding up Little Main Street, bedecked in his spaceman's blues. She met
him just outside the entrance. "Welcome to the Deneb Six Cafe," she said.
Mr. Burke sniffed the night air. "Smells almost like pork chops," he said. "But of course that's
impossible. You couldn't really be having pork chops."
"Oh yes we could," Miss Mintz said, "and we're having scalloped potatoes with them. Come on in,
Mr. Burke. We're just starting to serve."
There were three long collapsible tables and two small ones. Miss Mintz chose one of the small ones,
a little apart from the others, and one of the senior girls came over and took their order. Mr. Burke
winked at her just as though she were a regular waitress, just as though he and Miss Mintz had been out
doing the town and had stopped in for a bite to eat before grabbing a skycar home.
Looking at him across the little table, Miss Mintz could hardly believe the last three days. The first
one had been the most incredible of all. That was when Mr. Burke had said good morning to her on the
passenger deck and had stopped to pass the time of day. He had never even noticed her before and
Miss Mintz was sure it was the dress she was wearing that had caught his eye. It was a new dress, one of
the two she'd bought especially for the tripтАФa novelty number with an upturned collar and a girlish swirl
skirt that was guaranteed to make you look younger and feel younger.
She had been sure at first that it was the dress, but the next day she wasn't quite so sure, because on
that day she wore her ordinary lounging slacks and her ship and planet blouse with the little space ships
stenciled on it, and Mr. Burke said good morning to her anyway, and stopped for an even longer time to
pass the time of day. He'd had a great deal to say that morning, particularly about the monotony of the
ration tablets. He'd reminisced a little about the "old days", only it was a sort of vicarious reminiscing, for
Mr. Burke was much too young to have had much to do with the "old days." He was around Miss
Mintz's age, and Miss Mintz was only twenty-nine.
"Can you imagine, Miss Mintz!" he had said. "They used to serve hot beans for breakfast on the first
star ships. Hot beans, mind you! And I've heardтАФthough I don't believe it for one minute!тАФthat the
crews used to gripe about the chow. Imagine anybody griping about real beans! They should have had
condensed ones, then they'd really have had something to gripe about!"
That night she hadn't been able to get him out of her mind and she'd had a silly dream about
himтАФone that made her blush the next morning when he stopped to talk to her on the passenger deck
just after the ship had come out of transphotic and Deneb 6 was a gauzy ball of blue yarn in the
viewplates. He'd gone into more detail about the monotony of the chow, and that was when the
inspiration had come to her, when she'd said, vibrant with sudden singing happiness, "Why Mr. Burke,
why don't you eat with us during stop-over? We've brought all our own food from home and we're going
to cook our own meals for a whole week. I'm sure you'll like some of the things we have."
 That was the way it had happened, but it was still hard to believe, even with Mr. Burke sitting across
the table from her, smiling his disarming smile, his carefree blue eyes lighting up when the "waitress"
brought over two plates heaped with scalloped potatoes and pork chops. The pork chops were a little
on the crisp side, but they tasted so good that Miss Mintz, who ordinarily ate like a bird, had two of
them. Mr. Burke had five.
After the meal she walked to the end of Little Main Street with him. "You know," she said, as they
paused beneath the last light bulb, "I think I'm going to love it here."
"It sure is a pretty place," Mr. Burke said.
"All those bluebirds! I think we should call it Maeterlinck's Planet, don't you?"
"Did he discover it? I thought it was a trader by the name of Schmidt who landed here first."