"Arkady and Boris Strugatsky. The Final Circle of Paradise (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

really look so much the gangster?
"You remind me of Chuchundra the Muskrat," I said, "who
spent his life crying because he could not come out into the
middle of the room. Your nose is blue from fear, your ears are
freezing, and your pants are wet so that you are trailing a
small stream...."
In such cases it makes absolutely no difference what is
said. It is important to speak calmly and not to make sudden
movements. The expression on his face did not change, but when
I spoke about the stream, he moved his eyes momentarily to take
a look. But only for a second. Then he jumped toward the door,
fluttering for a second at the latch, and flew outside, dirty
bottoms of his sandals flying. I went out after him.
He stood in the lilac bush, so that all I could see was
his pale face. Like a fleeing cat looking momentarily over its
shoulder.
"Okay, okay," said I. "Would you please explain to me what
I must do? I have to send home my new address. The address of
this house where I am now living." He regarded me in silence.
"I don't feel right going to your mother - in the first place,
she has guests, and in the second-"
"Seventy-eight, Second Waterway," he said.
Slowly I sat down on the steps. There was a distance of
some ten meters between us.
'That's quite a voice you have," I said confidentially.
"Just like my friend the barman's at Mirza-Charles."
"When did you arrive?" said he.
"Well, let's see." I looked at my watch, "About an hour
and a half ago."
"Before you there was another one," he said, looking
sideways. "He was a rat-fink. He gave me striped swimming
trunks, and when I went in the water, they melted away."
"Ouch!" I said. "That is really a monster of some sort and
not a human - he should have been drowned in Splotchy."
"Didn't have time - I was going to, but he went away."
"Was it that same Hugger with Martha and the boys?"
"No - where did you get that idea? Hugger came later."
"Also a rat-fink?"
He didn't answer. I leaned back against the wall and
contemplated the street. A car jerkily backed out of the
opposite driveway, back and forthed, and roared off.
Immediately it was followed by another just such a car. There
was the pungent smell of gasoline. Then cars followed one after
another, until my eyes blurred. Several helis appeared in the
sky. They were the so-called silent helis, but they flew
relatively low, and while they flew, it was difficult to talk.
In any case, the boy was apparently not going to talk. But he
wasn't going to leave, either. He was doing something with his
splotcher in the bushes and was glancing at me now and then. I
was hoping he wasn't going to splotch me again. The helis kept