"Альфред Бестер. The Flowered Thundermug (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

wearing a polka dot bikini, carried a tray of drinks and had a
pair of the professor's swim trunks draped over her arm. Muni
nodded in appreciation, swallowed a quick one and frowned at
the traditional musical production number with which the
students moved from class to class. He began reassembling his
lecture notes as they hurried from the building.

"No time for a dip, Miss Sothern," he said. "I'm scheduled
to sneer at a revolutionary discovery in the Medical Arts
Building this afternoon."

"It's not on your calendar, Dr. Muni."

"I know. I know. But Raymond Massey is sick, and I'm
standing in for him. Ray says he'll substitute for me the next
time I'm due to advise a young genius to give up poetry."

They left the Sociology Building, passed the teardrop
swimming pool, the book-shaped library, the heart-shaped Heart
Clinic, and came to the faculty-shaped Faculty-Building. It was
in a grove of royal palms through which a miniature golf course
meandered, its air conditioners emitting a sibilant sound.
Inside the Faculty Building, concealed loudspeakers were
broadcasting the latest noise-hit.

"What is it-Caruso's `Niagara'?" Professor Muni asked
absently.

"No, Callas's `Johnstown Flood,'" Miss Sothern answered,
opening the door of Muni's office. "Why, that's odd. I could
have sworn I left the lights on." She felt for the light
switch.

"Stop," Professor Muni snapped. "There's more here than
meets the eye, Miss Sothern."

"You mean . . . ?"

"Who does one traditionally encounter on a surprise visit
in a darkened room? I mean, whom."

"Th-the Bad Guys?"

"Precisely."

A nasal voice spoke. "You are so right, my dear professor,
but I assure you this is purely a private business matter."

"Dr. Muni," Miss Sothern gasped. "There's someone in your
office."