"Dickson, Gordon - Dragon And The George Txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

Grottwold was standing before what looked like some sort of control panel to Jim's right; and he looked around stardedly as Jim burst in. Angie was seated against the far wall in what looked like a dentist's chair, facing Jim, but with her head and the upper part of her face completely covered by what looked like the helmet of the hair dryer in a beauty shop.

"Angie!" Jim snapped.

She disappeared.

Jim stood for a timeless moment, staring at the empty chair and the empty helmet. She could not be gone. She could not have just winked out like that! What he had just seen was impossible. He stood there waiting for his eyes to disavow what he had just seen and return him sight of Angie, still before him.

"Apportation!"

The strangled yell from Grottwold jarred Jim out of his half-stunned condition. He swung about to face the tall, shock-haired psychology graduate, who was himself staring at the empty chair and helmet with a bloodless face. Life and purpose came back to Jim.

"What is it? What happened?" he shouted at Grottwold. "Where's Angie?"

"She apported!" stammered Grottwold, still staring at the place where Angie had been. "She really ap- ported! And I was just trying for astral projection-"

"What?" Jim snarled, turning on him. "What were you trying?"

"Astral projection! Just astral projection, that's all!" Grottwold yelped. "Just projecting her astral self out of her body. I wasn't even trying to get her to experi- ence an actual projection. All I was hoping for was just enough astral movement to register on the microammeters connected to the plant ganglia I'm using as response indicator. But she apported instead. She-"

"Where is she?" roared Jim.

"I don't know! I don't, I swear I don't!" the tall young man's voice climbed the scale. "There's no way I can tell-"

"You better know!"

"I don't! I know what the settings on my instruments are; but-"

Jim took three steps across the room, picked the taller man up by the lapels of his lab jacket and slammed him back against the wall to the left of the instrumenc panel.

"GET HER BACK!"

"I tell you I can't!" yelled Grottwold. "She wasn't supposed to do this; so I wasn't prepared for it! To get her back I'd first have to spend days or even weeks figuring out what happened. Then I'd have to figure out some way of reversing the process. And even if I did, by that time it might turn out to be too late be- cause she'd have moved out of the physical area she's apported to!

Jim's head was whirling. It was unbelievable that he should be standing here listening to this nonsense and shoving Grottwold against the wall-but far more believable, at that, than that Angie should really have disappeared. Even now, he could not really be- lieve what had happened.

But he had seen her disappear.

He increased his grip on Grottwold's lapels.

"All right, turkey!" he said. "You get her back here, or I'll start taking you apart right now."

"I tell you I can't! Stop-" Grottwold cried as Jim pulled him forward from the wall preparatory to slam- ming him back against it-or through it, if that was possible. "Wait! I've got an idea."

Jim hesitated, but kept his grip.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"There's just a chance. A long chance," Grottwold babbled. "You'd have to help. But it might work. Yes, it might just work."