"Alan Dean Foster - Some Notes Concerning A Green Box" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

Some Notes Concerning a Green Box

By Alan Dean Foster



Sirs: I did not know what to do with these notes until a friend of mine suggested that I send
them along to you, assuming, I suppose, that you might find them of some interest. They
form an exceedingly odd story,one with which I am now not so sure I wish to be connected. I
report them here as they occurred.
I do not as a rule frequent the facilities of the anthropology department, but an occasion
made it necessary. Being a graduate student, I was able to obtain access to files which are
kept from the eyes of careless undergraduates and casual visitors. It was in a far corner of
the old manuscript-storage room that I first came across the box.
It caught my eye because it was clearly the only new thing in the ancient place. Curious, I
made a seat for myself on a stack of old papers and examined the thing more closely. It was
quite an ordinary-looking green box, except for the rather formidable-seeming lock on its
cover and what I imagined (falsely, of course) to be some faint lingering phosphorescence
around the edges. I tried the lid idly and discovered that the lock had not been fastened.
More out of boredom than anything else, I then reached in and brought out the enclosed
sheaf of papers. Most of these seemed quite new, but there were also a few scraps of some
thick, coarse vellum which gave some indication of having been burnt at the sides. I
imagined that they had been treated with .some chemical preservative, for when I first
opened the box, an odor issued forth which' was noxious in the extreme. It dissipated very
rapidly, however, and I thought no more on it.
The contents of the box included typed letters on which were inscribed in longhand various
notes, charts, and a sketch, in addition to the yellowed bits of vellum. As the letters seemed
to bear somewhat on my area of study, I carried the box and its contents to the main room
and began to Xerox the material for later, more leisurely study.
Presently an elderly librarian chanced to pass. Espying the box, she became unaccountably
agitated, and quite vigorously insisted that I make a halt to what 1 was doing. The poor
woman was in such a state that I agreed to pause while she went to fetch
27
WITH FRIENDS LIKE THESE . ..
the librarian-in-charge. At the sight of the box and its revealed contents, that portly
gentleman became quite as incensed as the old lady, and the very first thing he did was to
return every scrap of paper to the container in question and lock it securely. Containing his
obvious anger, he took the old woman off to one side, carefully keeping the box tucked
tightly under one arm. Puzzled, I strained to -hear their conversation, but I could make out
only a few disjointed phrases, for they were careful to speak very softly. The man said, ". . .
who is he? . . . not permitted . . . should have been locked... delicate situation."
And the woman, ". . . didn't see! . . , no reason to suspect . . . ask him . . . safe . . ."
At this point they halted and the man returned to stare down at me intently. "Did you copy
any of the material in this box, son?" I replied that I had not, at which words he seemed
unaccountably relieved. When I ventured to inquire as to why I could not copy them, he
replied that the manuscripts were as yet unpublished, and therefore not covered by
copyright. He smiled for the first time since I had laid eyes on him and said, "No harm done,
then!" and shook my hand. Continuing to play .out the role, I replied that the material did not
seem to offer me such aid anyway, so I was perfectly willing to forget the entire incident.
By a fortuitous coincidence, I had stopped earlier at the post office, having need to refresh