"Dick, Philip K - Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch v1.1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dick Phillip K)

Downramp, at the buildingТs bank, he unlocked their safety deposit box and carried it to a privacy room; there he lifted out the display case containing the spread of ceramic ware which he was to show Mayerson.
Shortly, he was aboard a thermosealed interbuilding commute car, on his way to downtown New York City and P. P. Layouts, the great pale synthetic-cement building from which Perky Pat and all the units of her miniature world originated. The doll, he reflected, which had conquered man as man at the same time had conquered the planets of the Sol system. Perky Pat, the obsession of the colonists. What a commentary on colonial lifeЕ what more did one need to know about those unfortunates who, under the selective service laws of the UN, had been kicked off Earth, required to begin new, alien, lives on Mars or Venus or Ganymede or wherever else the UN bureaucrats happened to imagine they could be depositedЕ and after a fashion survive.
And we think weТve got it bad here, he said to himself.
The individual in the seat next to him, a middle-aged man wearing the gray pith helmet, sleeveless shirt, and shorts of bright red popular with the businessman class, remarked, УItТs going to be another hot one.Ф
УYes.Ф
УWhat you got there in that great big carton? A picnic lunch for a hovel of Martian colonists?Ф
УCeramics,Ф Hnatt said.
УIТll bet you fire them just by sticking them outdoors at high noon.Ф The businessman chuckled, then picked up his morning Тpape, opened it to the front page. УShip from outside the Sol system reported crash-landed on Pluto,Ф he said. УTeam being sent to find it. You suppose itТs things? I canТt stand those things from other star systems.Ф
УItТs more likely one of our own ships reporting back,Ф Hnatt said.
УEver seen a Proxima thing?Ф
УOnly pics.Ф
УGrisly,Ф the businessman said. УIf they find that wrecked ship on Pluto and it is a thing I hope they laser it out of existence; after all we do have a law against them coming into our system.Ф
УRight.Ф
УCan I see your ceramics? IТm in neckties, myself. The Werner simulated-handwrought living tie in a variety of Titanian colorsЦI have one on, see? The colors are actually a primitive life form that we import and then grow in cultures here on Terra. Just how we induce them to reproduce is our trade secret, you know, like the formula for Coca-Cola.Ф
Hnatt said, УFor a similar reason I canТt show you these ceramics, much as IТd like to. TheyТre new. IТm taking them to a Pre-Fash precog at P. P. Layouts; if he wants to miniaturize them for the Perky Pat layouts then weТre in: itТs just a question of flashing the info to the P.P. disc jockeyЦwhatТs his name?Цcircing Mars. And so on.Ф
УWerner handwrought ties are part of the Perky Pat layouts,Ф the man informed him. УHer boyfriend Walt has a closetful of them.Ф He beamed. УWhen P. P. Layouts decided to min our tiesЦФ
УIt was Barney Mayerson you talked to?Ф
УI didnТt talk to him; it was our regional sales manager. They say Mayerson is difficult. Goes on what seems like impulse and once heТs decided itТs irreversible.Ф
УIs he ever wrong? Declines items that become fash?Ф
УSure. He may be a precog but heТs only human. IТll tell you one thing that might help. HeТs very suspicious of women. His marriage broke up a couple of years ago and he never got over it. See, his wife became pregnant twice, and the board of directors of his conapt building, I think itТs 33, met and voted to expel him and his wife because they had violated the building code. Well, you know 33; you know how hard it is to get into any of the buildings in that low range. So instead of giving up his apt he elected to divorce his wife and let her move, taking their child. And then later on apparently he decided he made a mistake and he got embittered; he blamed himself, naturally, for making a mistake like that. A natural mistake, though; for GodТs sake, what wouldnТt you and I give to have an apt in 33 or even 34? He never remarried; maybe heТs a Neo-Christian. But anyhow when you go to try to sell him on your ceramics, be very careful about how you deal with the feminine angle; donТt say Сthese will appeal to the ladiesТ or anything like that. Most retail items are purchasedЦФ
УThanks for the tip,Ф Hnatt said, rising; carrying his case of ceramics he made his way down the aisle to the exit. He sighed. It was going to be tough, possibly even hopeless; he wasnТt going to be able to lick the circumstances which long predated his relationship with Emily and her pots, and that was that.
Fortunately he managed to snare a cab; as it carried him through downtown cross-traffic he read his own morning Тpape, in particular the lead story about the ship believed to have returned from Proxima only to crash on PlutoТs frozen wastesЦan understatement! Already it was conjectured that this might be the well-known interplan industrialist Palmer Eldritch, who had gone to the Prox system a decade ago at the invitation of the Prox Council of humanoid types; they had wanted him to modernize their autofacs along Terran lines. Nothing had been heard from Eldritch since. Now this.
It would probably be better for Terra if this wasnТt Eldritch coming back, he decided. Palmer Eldritch was too wild and dazzling a solo pro; he had accomplished miracles in getting autofac production started on the colony planets, butЦas always he had gone too far, schemed too much. Consumer goods had piled up in unlikely places where no colonists existed to make use of them. Mountains of debris, they had become, as the weather corroded them bit by bit, inexorably. Snowstorms, if one could believe that such still existed somewhereЕ there were places which were actually cold. Too cold, in actual fact.
УThy destination, your eminence,Ф the autonomic cab informed him, halting before a large but mostly subsurface structure. P. P. Layouts, with employees handily entering by its many thermal-protected ramps.
He paid the cab, hopped from it, and scuttled across a short open space for a ramp, his case held with both hands; briefly, naked sunlight touched him and he feltЦ or imaginedЦhimself sizzle. Baked like a toad, dried of all life-juices, he thought as he safely reached the ramp.
Presently he was subsurface, being allowed into MayersonТs office by a receptionist. The rooms, cool and dim, invited him to relax but he did not; he gripped his display case tighter and tensed himself and, although he was not a Neo-Christian, he mumbled a prolix prayer.
УMr. Mayerson,Ф the receptionist, taller than Hnatt and impressive in her open-bodice dress and resort-style heels, said, speaking not to Hnatt but to the man seated at the desk. УThis is Mr. Hnatt,Ф she informed Mayerson. УThis is Mr. Mayerson, Mr. Hnatt.Ф Behind Mayerson stood a girl in a pale green sweater and with absolutely white hair. The hair was too long and the sweater too tight. УThis is Miss Fugate, Mr. Hnatt. Mr. MayersonТs assistant. Miss Fugate, this is Mr. Richard Hnatt.Ф
At the desk Barney Mayerson continued to study a document without acknowledging the entrance of anyone and Richard Hnatt waited in silence, experiencing a mixed bag of emotions; anger touched him, lodged in his windpipe and chest, and of course Angst, and then, above even those, a tendril of growing curiosity. So this was EmilyТs former husband, who, if the living necktie salesman could be believed, still chewed mournfully, bitterly, on the regret of having abolished the marriage. Mayerson was a rather heavy-set man, in his late thirties, with unusuallyЦand not particularly fashionableЦloose and wavy hair. He looked bored but there was no sign of hostility about him. But perhaps he had not as yetЦ
УLetТs see your pots,Ф Mayerson said suddenly.
Laying the display case on the desk Richard Hnatt opened it, got out the ceramic articles one by one, arranged them, and then stepped back.
After a pause Barney Mayerson said, УNo.Ф
УСNoТ?Ф Hnatt said. УNo what?Ф
Mayerson said, УThey wonТt make it.Ф He picked up his document and resumed reading it.
УYou mean you decided, just like that?Ф Hnatt said, unable to believe that it was already done.
УExactly like that,Ф Mayerson agreed. He had no further interest in the display of ceramics; as far as he was concerned Hnatt had already packed up his pots and left.
Miss Fugate said, УExcuse me, Mr. Mayerson.Ф
Glancing at her Barney Mayerson said, УWhat is it?Ф
УIТm sorry to say this, Mr. Mayerson,Ф Miss Fugate said; she went over to the pots, picked one up and held it in her hands, weighing it, rubbing its glazed surface. УBut I get a distinctly different impression than you do. I feel these ceramic pieces will make it.Ф
Hnatt looked from one to the other of them.
УLet me have that.Ф Mayerson pointed to a dark gray vase; at once Hnatt handed it to him. Mayerson held it for a time. УNo,Ф he said finally. He was frowning, now. УI still get no impression of this item making it big. In my opinion youТre mistaken, Miss Fugate.Ф He set the vase back down. УHowever,Ф he said to Richard Hnatt, Уin view of the disagreement between myself and Miss FugateЦФ He scratched his nose thoughtfully. УLeave this display with me for a few days; IТll give it further attention.Ф Obviously, however, he would not.
Reaching, Miss Fugate picked up a small, oddly shaped piece and cradled it against her bosom almost tenderly. УThis one in particular. I receive very powerful emanations from it. This one will be the most successful of all.Ф
In a quiet voice Barney Mayerson said, УYouТre out of your mind, Roni.Ф He seemed really angry, now; his face was violent and dark. УIТll vid you,Ф he said to Richard Hnatt. УWhen IТve made my final decision. I see no reason why I should change my mind, so donТt be optimistic. In fact donТt bother to leave them.Ф He shot a hard, harsh glance toward his assistant, Miss Fugate.



TWO

In his office at ten that morning Leo Bulero, chairman of the board of directors of P. P. Layouts, received a vidcallЦwhich he had been expectingЦfrom Tri-Planetary Law Enforcement, a private police agency. He had retained it within minutes of learning of the crash on Pluto by the intersystem ship returning from Prox.
He listened idly, because despite the momentousness of the news he had other matters on his mind.
It was idiotic, in view of the fact that P. P. Layouts paid an enormous yearly tribute to the UN for immunity, but idiotic or not a UN Narcotics Control Bureau warship had seized an entire load of Can-D near the north polar cap of Mars, almost a million skinsТ worth, on its way from the heavily guarded plantations on Venus. Obviously the squeeze money was not reaching the right people within the complicated UN hierarchy.