"Fredric Brown - The Weapon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Fredric)

The room was quiet in the dimness of early evening. Dr.
James Graham, key scientist of a very important project,
sat in his favorite chair, thinking. It was so still that he
could hear the turning of pages in the next room as his son
leafed through a picture book.
Often Graham did his best work, his most creative think-
ing under these circumstances, sitting alone in an unlighted
room in his own apartment after the day's regular work. But
tonight his mind would not work constructively. Mostly he
thought about his mentally arrested sonhis only sonin
the next room. The thoughts were loving thoughts, not the
bitter anguish he had felt years ago when he had first
learned of the boy's condition. The boy was happy; wasn't
that the main thing? And to how many men is given a child
who will always be a child, who will not grow up to leave
him? Certainly that was rationalization, but what is wrong
with rationalization when The doorbell rang.
Graham rose and turned on lights in the almost-dark
room before he went through the hallway to the door. He
was not annoyed; tonight, at this moment, almost any inter-
ruption to his thoughts was welcome.
He opened the door. A stranger stood there; he said, "Dr.
Graham? My name is Niemand; I'd like to talk to you. May
I come in a moment?"
Graham looked at him. He was a small man, nondescript,
obviously harmlesspossibly a reporter or an insurance
agent.
But it didn't matter what he was. Graham found himself
saying, "Of course. Come in, Mr. Niemand." A few minutes
of conversation, he justified himself by thinking, might di-
vert his thoughts and clear his mind.
"Sit down," he said, in the living room. "Care for a drink?"
Niemand said, "No, thank you." He sat in the chair;
Graham sat on the sofa.
The small man interlocked his fingers; he leaned forward.
He said, "Dr. Graham, you are the man whose scientific
work is more likely than that of any other man to end the
human race's chance for survival."
A crackpot, Graham thought. Too late now he realized
that he should have asked the man's business before admit-
ting him. It would be an embarrassing interview; he dis-
liked being rude. yet only rudeness was effective.
"Dr. Graham, the weapon on which you are working"
The visitor stopped and turned his head at the door that
led to a bedroom opened and a boy of fifteen came in. The
boy didn't notice Niemand; he ran to Graham.
"Daddy, will you read to me now?" The boy of fifteen
laughed the sweet laughter of a child of four.
Graham put an arm around the boy. He looked at his visi-