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- Филип Киндред Дик
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- Человек в высоком замке
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- Стр. 201/275
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We
can
only
knuckle
under
.
While
he
stood
there
under
the
eaves
of
the
building
,
taking
quick
drags
on
his
marijuana
cigarette
and
dully
watching
traffic
go
by
,
an
ordinary
-
looking
,
middle
-
aged
white
man
sauntered
up
to
him
.
"
Mr
.
Frink
?
Frank
Frink
?
"
"
You
got
it
,
"
Frink
said
.
The
man
produced
a
folded
document
and
identification
.
"
I
’
m
with
the
San
Francisco
Police
Department
.
I
’
ve
a
warrant
for
your
arrest
.
"
He
held
Frink
’
s
arm
already
;
it
had
already
been
done
.
"
What
for
?
"
Frink
demanded
.
"
Bunco
.
Mr
.
Childan
,
American
Artistic
Handcrafts
.
"
The
cop
forcibly
led
Frink
along
the
sidewalk
;
another
plainclothes
cop
joined
them
,
one
now
on
each
side
of
Frink
.
They
hustled
him
toward
a
parked
unmarked
Toyopet
.
This
is
what
the
time
requires
of
us
,
Frink
thought
as
he
was
dumped
onto
the
car
seat
between
the
two
cops
.
The
door
slammed
shut
;
the
car
,
driven
by
a
third
cop
,
this
one
in
uniform
,
shot
out
into
traffic
.
These
are
the
sons
-
of
-
bitches
we
must
submit
to
.
"
You
got
an
attorney
?
"
one
of
the
cops
asked
him
.
"
No
,
"
he
said
.
