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

pierce the last line of his defenses and sever the last link of his
friendship with Mac, he asked no questions. Nor did Rada. Perhaps she was
still too upset. But her eyes never left him, and she held on to his hand
tightly, sobbing from time to time, afraid that he might suddenly disappear.
Disappear forever. Realizing that time was growing short, Maxim pushed away
his unfinished cup of tea and began to tell them his story.
He told them how a terrorist's mother had helped him after Captain
Chachu had wounded him, how he met the degens, what kind of people they were
and why, about the towers' real function, and what a cruel invention they
were. He described what had happened during the night, how people had
charged a machine gun and died one after another, how the steel pile had
collapsed, and how he had carried on his shoulder a dead woman whose child
had been taken from her and whose husband had been executed.
Rada listened greedily. Eventually Guy displayed interest and began to
ask questions. Sarcastic, hostile questions. Stupid and cruel questions.
Maxim realized that Guy did not believe him, that he did not want to believe
him, that it was all he could do to keep himself from interrupting. When
Maxim finished, Guy said with a smirk: "They sure twisted you around their
little finger."
Maxim looked at Rada, but she turned away. Biting her lip, she said
hesitantly: "I don't know. Of course there might have been one tower like
that. Mac, believe me, what you're telling me can't be true."
She spoke in a soft faltering voice, obviously trying not to hurt him.
Guy suddenly flared up and insisted that the story about the towers' real
function was a lot of nonsense, that Maxim had no idea of the number of
towers throughout the country, how many were built each year, each day, and
that it was insane to think that billions would be spent for the sole
purpose of inflicting misery on a lousy bunch of freaks!
"Can you imagine how much money is spent on security alone?" he added
after a brief pause.
"I've thought about it," said Maxim. "I'm sure it's not all that
simple. But Khonti money has nothing to do with this. Listen, Guy, I saw for
myself how their pains vanished when the tower collapsed. As far as the ABMs
are concerned - look, Guy, you have far too many towers for air defense.
Your air space could be protected with many fewer towers. And why do you
have ABMs on your southern border? Do you really believe that those wild
degens have missiles?"
"There's a lot more to it than you think," replied Guy hostilely. "You
don't know anything and you believe everything you're told. Pardon me for
saying so, Mac, but if you weren't you... oh, we're all too gullible," he
added bitterly.
Maxim didn't feel like arguing any longer. How were they getting along,
he wanted to know. Where was Rada working? Why hadn't she enrolled in
school? How was Uncle Kaan? And their neighbors? Rada grew animated and
began to talk freely. Suddenly she broke off, rose, cleared away the dishes,
and went into the kitchen. Guy ran his hands through his hair, frowned at
the dark window, and finally summoned up the courage for a serious talk with
Mac.
"Mac, we're very fond of you. I like you. Rada likes you, even though
you cause a lot of trouble and things have gone badly for us because of you.