"Gordon R. Dickson - Idiot Solvant" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

out of the rather confused reports following Hannibal's escape from the
Romans, after Antioehus had been defeated at Magnesia and surrendered
his great general to Rome.
Right now, however, he was forced to lay his books aside and take the
small white capsule which Margie, at Hank's order, extended to him. Art
took it; then hesitated.
"Do you think it'll make me very jittery?" he asked.
"It should just wake you up," said Hank.
"I told you how I am with things like coffee. That's why I never drink
coffee, or take any stimulants. Half a cup and my eyes feel like they're
going to pop out of my head."
"There wouldn't," said Hank a trifle sourly, "be much point in our paying
you to test out the monster if you refused to take it, now would there?"
"Oh . . . oh, no," said Art, suddenly embarrassed. "Water?"
Margie gave him a full glass and threw an unkind glance at her superior.
"If it starts to bother you, Art, you tell us right away," she said.
Art gulped the capsule down. He stood there waiting as if he expected an
explosion from the region of his stomach. Nothing happened, and after a
second or two he relaxed.
"How long does it take?" he asked.
"About fifteen minutes," said Hank.
They waited. At the end of ten minutes, Art began to brighten up and said
he was feeling much more alert. At fifteen minutes, he was sparkling-eyed
and cheerful, almost, in fact, bouncy.
"Awfully sorry, Doctor," he said to Hank. "Awfully sorry I hesitated over
taking the monster that way. It was just that coffee and things тАУ"
"That's all right," said Hank, preparing to leave. "Margie'll take you down
for tests now."
"Marvelous pill. I recommend it highly," said Art, going out the door with
Margie. They could hear him headed off down the corridor outside toward
the laboratory on the floor below, still talking.
"Well?" said Hank.
"Time will tell," said Arlie.
"Speaking of time," continued Hank, "I've got the plug-in coffeepot back
at the office. Have you got time for a quick cup?"


". . . Don't deny it," Hank was saying over half-empty cups in the office a
short while later. "I heard you; I read you loud and clear. If a man makes his
mind up to it, he can fly, you said."
"Not at all. And besides, I was only speaking academically," retorted
Arlie, heatedly. "Just because I'm prepared to entertain fantastic notions
academically doesn't mean I'm going to let you try to shove them down my
throat on a practical basis. Of course nobody can fly."
"According to your ideas, someone like Willoughby could if he punched
the right buttons in him."
"Nonsense. Certainly be can't fly."
There was the wild patter of feminine feet down the hallway outside the
office, the door was flung oven, and Margie tottered in. She clung to the
desk and gasped, too out of wind to talk.