"Arcady And Boris Strugatsky. Prisoners of Power" - читать интересную книгу автора

anyway."
"I hear they've brought in fresh lake mushrooms," said the adjutant,
still digging through his papers. "In their own juice."
"Hear that, captain?" said the civilian.
"No, gentlemen," said the captain. "I have one opinion and I've already
expressed it. As for the lake mushrooms ..."He added something else that
Pandi and Maxim couldn't hear, and the entire group burst into laughter.
Captain Chachu leaned back in his chair, looking pleased. The adjutant
stopped digging through his papers and whispered something to the brigadier.
The brigadier nodded several times. The adjutant sat down and, as if he were
addressing the empty seat, called out: "Nole Renadu."
Pandi pushed the door open, thrust his head into the corridor, and
repeated in a loud voice: "Nole Renadu."
Movement was heard in the corridor, and an elderly man, expensively
dressed but somewhat battered and disheveled, entered the room. His legs
were slightly unsteady, so Pandi took him by the elbow and planted him in
the prisoner's seat. The door clicked shut. The man coughed loudly, rested
his hands on his knees, and raised his head proudly.
"So-o..." drawled the brigadier, studying the papers. He rattled off
something that sounded like a tongue twister: "Nole
Renadu-fifty-five-years-old-homeowner-member-of-the-city council. So-o.
Member of the Veteran's Association." The civilian beside the brigadier
yawned, slipped a magazine from his pocket, set it on his knees, and leafed
through it. "The prisoner... removed during a search... then and there.
So-o. What were you doing at Number Eight Trumpeter Street?"
"I'm the owner of the building," said Renadu with dignity. "I was
having a conference with my manager."
"Have you checked his documents?" The brigadier turned to the adjutant.
"Yes, sir. Everything is in order."
"So-o," said the brigadier. "Mr. Renadu, do you know any of the
prisoners?"
"No, I do not," said Renadu, shaking his head vigorously. "Not
personally. But the name of one of them - Ketshef - I think someone by
that name lives in the building. But I don't remember. Maybe I'm mistaken.
Maybe not in this building. I have two more, and one of them -"
"Excuse me," interrupted the civilian without raising his eyes from the
magazine. "What were the other prisoners in the cell talking about? Didn't
you listen?"
"Uh... I... uh," hesitated Renadu. "I must confess... well, your cell
has... insects. So most of the time we were busy with them. Someone was
whispering in a comer, but I was too busy fighting off the insects." He
laughed nervously.
"Of course," agreed the brigadier. "Well, now, I don't think an apology
is necessary, Mr. Renadu. Here are your documents. You are free. Chief
escort!" he called out.
Pandi opened the door wide and shouted: "Chief escort, report to the
brigadier!"
"I wouldn't even consider discussing the question of apologies," said
Renadu gravely. "I and I alone am to blame. More precisely, my damned
heredity. May I?" he asked Maxim, pointing to the table where his documents