"Bisson, Terry - First Fire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bisson Terry)

personally snuffed out the sacred Flame of Zoroaster, which had burned,
supposedly, for ten thousand years. But according to the legend, he was fooled.
The flame had already been spirited away by the priests. It's preserved in a
small shrine about twenty miles north of here."
Twenty miles in northern Iran was like two hundred back in California. The next
morning, Emil found himself rattling across the black sands in a Toyota Land
Cruiser expertly driven by a Wisconsin graduate assistant. Professor Elliot
bounced around in the back seat.
"I've met him several times and he's all right with me," the graduate assistant
said. "For one thing, he doesn't come on to every female. For another, he really
cares about archeology. He has values."
Her name was Kay. She was talking about the Tycoon, a Wisconsin alumnus.
Sometimes Emil got the impression that the purpose of his worldwide business and
philanthropic activities was just so these conversations would be held.
"It's interesting that he is excavating this city that was sacked by Alexander,"
said Professor Elliot. "In many ways he is a modern Alexander. Nothing can stand
against him, or at least against the technology, the capital and the connections
he commands."
The Flame of Zoroaster was in an artificial cave, carved out of a sandstone
cliff. It was maintained and guarded by a small coterie of monks who were
reluctant to show it to the non-faithful. But Zoroastrianism is an obsolete and
beleagured faith, and it had been easy enough to convince local officials that
the shrine was, like Ecbatan, part of the "Heritage of Humankind."
The monks were under orders. They had already let in the professor several weeks
before. They did so again, graciously if reluctantly.
The flame burned in a large bowl of beaten gold. A young monk fed it twigs from
a pile against one wall. The twigs themselves were testimony to the diligence
and ingenuity of the monks, since the desert was barren for miles around. Emil
found out later that the wood was brought by the faithful from as far away as
India.
Emil pointed his time gun at the flame and pulled the trigger until it beeped.
He looked at the display and let out a low whistle.
"What is it?" asked Professor Elliot.
"Just what they say," said Emil. He showed the professor and the student the
display.
"Jesus!" said Kay.
"When this fire was built, Jesus was as far in their future as he is now in our
past," said Emil.
The flame was 5,619.657 years old.
"So it's true," said Elliot, looking astonished.
Emil nodded. "Most of it. Certainly it's true that they've kept it burning since
long before Alexander's time."
"Jesus," said Kay, again, shaking her head. Emil noticed that she was more
attractive with her eyes wide and her lips parted. It softened her.
The monks looked pleased as they ushered their guests back out into the bright
sunshine.
**
That night Emil and Kay spent the night together, outside the tents, under the
million stars. It was lonely on the dig, she explained, though she didn't really
have to. She had a boy friend, but he was in Madison. They had an understanding.