"Arkadi and Boris Strugatsky. Monday begins on Saturday (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

"I'll talk to the fellows," I promised. "I know some who are unhappy."
"We don't need just any programmer," said Hawk-nose. "Programmers are
in short supply, and are spoiled, but we don't need a prima donna."
"That's more complicated," I said.
Hawk-nose started counting his fingers. "We need a programmer who: a--
is not spoiled; b-- is a volunteer; c-- is willing to live in a dorm-- "
"D," picked up The Beard, "will take one hundred and twenty rubles."
"And how about wings?" I asked. "Or, say, a halo around the head? You
are searching for one in a thousand!"
"But all we need is just that one," said Hawk-nose.
"But what if there's only nine hundred?"
"We'll settle for nine-tenths."
The forest fell away on either side; we crossed a bridge and ran along
between potato fields.
"Nine o'clock," said Hawk-nose. "Where are you planning to spend the
night?"
"I'll sleep in the car. How late are the stores open?"
"The stores are already closed," said Hawk-nose. "You could stay in the
dorm," said The Beard. "I have an extra bunk bed in my room."
"You can't park near the dorm," Hawk-nose said dreamily.
"Yeah, I guess so," said The Beard, chuckling for some private reason.
"We can park the car over by the police," said Hawk-nose.
"That's a lot of folderol," said The Beard. "Here I am prattling
nonsense, and you trail right along. How's he going to get in the dorm?"
"Right, right, damn it," said Hawk-nose. "Quite so; can't get through a
workday without forgetting one of these sidelights."
"How about transvecting him?"
"That's a no-no," said Hawk-nose. "You are not dealing with a sofa, you
know. And you are no Cristobal Junta, and neither am I..."
"Don't worry yourselves," I said. "It's not the first time I slept in
the car."
Suddenly I felt a terrible yen to sleep between sheets. It had been
four nights that I had been sleeping in a bag.
"I've got it," said Hawk-nose. "Ho-ho-- -- Iznakurnozh !"*

"Right!" exclaimed The Beard. "Over to Lukomoniye with him!"

____________________________________________________________________________
* lzba na kuryikh nozhkakh: Log cottage on hen's legs, of Russian
folklore.



"Honest to God, I can sleep over in the car," I said.
"You are going to sleep in a house," said Hawk-nose, "on relatively
clean sheets. There must be some way we can repay you...."
"You wouldn't want us to push a ruble on you, would you?" said The
Beard.
We entered the town. Ancient stout fences, mighty log houses with
blackened timbers and narrowish windows, decorated with filigreed fronts and