"Baker, Kage - Son Observe the Time" - читать интересную книгу автора (Baker Kage)

He pulled himself up on the coping of the pool and swept his wet hair out of his eyes. I stepped to the edge, took the correct diverТs stance and leapt in, transmitting through bubbles: So youТre here as well? Presalvaging books, I suppose?

The Mercantile Library, he affirmed, and there was nothing in his pleasant tone to indicate heТd remembered what IТd done to him at Eurobase One.

God! That must be a Herculean effort, I responded, surfacing.

He transmitted rueful amusement. YouТve heard of it, I suppose?

Rather, I replied, practicing my breast stroke. All those Comstock Lode silver barons went looting the old family libraries of Europe, didnТt they? Snatched up medieval manuscripts at a tenth their value from impoverished Venetian princes, I believe? Fabulously rare first editions from London antiquarians?

Something like that, he replied. And brought them back home to the States for safekeeping.

Ha!

Well, how were they to know? Lewis made an expressive gesture taking in the vast edifice around us. Mr. Sutro himself had a Shakespeare first folio. What a panic itТs been tracking that down! And you?

IТm negotiating for a promising-looking young recruit. Moreover, I drew Nob Hill detail, I replied casually. IТve coordinated quite a team of talented youngsters set to liberate the premises of Mssrs. Towne, Crocker, Huntington et al. as soon as the lights are out. All manner of costly bric-a-brac has been tagged for rescueЦChippendales, Louis QuatorzesЦto say nothing of jewels and cash.

My, that sounds satisfying. YouТll never guess what I found, only last night! Lewis transmitted, looking immensely pleased with himself.

Something unexpected? I responded.

He edged forward on the coping gleefully. Yes, you might say so. Just some old papers that had been mislaid by an idiot named Pompeo Leoni and bound into the wrong book. Just something jotted down by an elderly left-handed Italian gentleman!

Not Da Vinci? I turned in the water to stare at him, genuinely impressed.

Who else? Lewis nearly hugged himself in triumph. And! Not just any doodlings or speculation from the pen of Leonardo, either. Something of decided interest to the Company! It seems he devoted some serious thought to the construction of articulated human limbsЦa clockwork arm, for example, that could be made to perform various tasks!

IТve heard something of the sort, I replied, swimming back toward him.

Yes, well, he seems to have taken the idea further. Lewis leaned down in a conspiratorial manner. From a human arm he leapt to the idea of an entire articulated human skeleton of bronze, and wondered whether the human frame might not be merely imitated but improved in function!

By Jove! Was the man anticipating androids? I reached the coping and leaned on it, slicking back my hair.

No! No! He was chasing another idea entirely, Lewis insisted. Shall I quote? I rather think I ought to let him express his thoughts. He leaned back and, with a dreamy expression, transmitted in flawless fifteenth-century Tuscan: It has been observed that the presence of metal is not in all cases inimical to the body of man, as we may see in earrings, or in crossbow bolts, spearpoints, pistol balls, and other detritus of war that have been known to enter the flesh and remain for some years without doing the bearer any appreciable harm, or indeed in that practice of physicians wherein a small pellet of gold is inserted into an incision made near an aching joint, and the sufferer gains relief and ease of movement thereby.

Take this idea further and think that a shattered bone might be replaced with a model of the same bone cast in bronze, identical with or even superior to its original.

Go further and say that where one bone might be replaced, so might the skeleton entire, and if the articulation is improved upon the man might attain a greater degree of physical perfection than he was born with.

The flaw in this would be the manТs pain and the high likelihood he would die before surgery of such magnitude could be carried out.

Unless we are to regard the theory of alchemists who hold that the PhilosopherТs Stone, once attained, would transmute the imperfect flesh to perfection, a kind of supple gold that lives and breathes, and by this means the end might be obtained without cutting, the end being immortality. Lewis opened his eyes and looked at me expectantly. I smacked my hand on the coping in amusement.

By Jove! I repeated. How typical of the Maestro. So he was all set to invent us, was he?

To say nothing of hip replacements!

But what a find for the Company, Lewis!