"Charles L. Harness - The Rose" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harness Charles L)

aware of it when he designed the long eye-restraining reflecting pool before the Taj Mahal. The Greek
tragedians knew it. Sophocles' Oedipus is still unparalleled in its suspensive pacing toward climax.
Solomon's imported Chaldean architects knew the effect to be gained by spacing the Holy of Holies at a
distance from the temple pylae, and the Cro-Magnard magicians with malice aforethought painted their
marvellous animal scenes only in the most inaccessible crannies of their limestone caves."

Martha Jacques smiled coldly. "Drivel, drivel, drivel. But never mind. One of these days soon I'll produce
evidence you'll be forced to admit art can't touch."

"If you're talking about Sciomnia, there's real nonsense for you," countered Jacques amiably. "Really,
Martha, it's a frightful waste of time to reconcile biological theory with the unified field theory of Einstein,
which itself merely reconciles the relativity and quantum theories, a futile gesture in the first place. Before
Einstein announced his unified theory in 1949, the professors handled the problem very neatly. They
taught the quantum theory on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and the relativity theory on Tuesdays,
Thursdays and Saturdays. On the Sabbath they rested in front of their television sets. What's the good of
Sciomnia, anyway?"

"It's the final summation of all physical and biological knowledge," retorted Martha Jacques. "And as
such, Sciomnia represents the highest possible aim of human endeavor. Man's goal in life is to understand
his environment, to analyze it to the last iotaтАФto know what he controls. The first person to understand
Sciomnia may well rule not only this planet, but the whole galaxyтАФnot that he'd want to, but he could.
That person may not be meтАФbut will certainly be a scientist, and not an irresponsible artist."

"But, Martha," protested Jacques. "Where did you pick up such a weird philosophy? The highest aim of
man is not to analyze, but to synthesizeтАФto create. If you ever solve all of the nineteen sub-equations of
Sciomnia, you'll be at a dead end. There'll be nothing left to analyze. As Dr. Bell the psychogeneticist
says, overspecialization, be it mental, as in the human scientist, or dental, as in the saber-tooth tiger, is
just a synonym for extinction. But if we continue to create, we shall eventually discover how to
transcendтАФ"

Grade coughed, and Martha Jacques cut in tersely: "Never mind what Dr. Bell says. Ruy, have you ever
seen this woman before?"

"The rose bush? Hmm." He stepped over to Anna and looked squarely down at her face. She flushed
and looked away. He circled her in slow, critical appraisal, like a prospective buyer in a slave market of
ancient Baghdad. "Hmm," he repeated doubtfully.

Anna breathed faster; her cheeks were the hue of beets. But she couldn't work up any sense of indignity.
On the contrary, there was something illogically delicious about being visually pawed and handled by this
strange leering creature.

Then she jerked visibly. What hypnotic insanity was this? This man held her life in the palm of his hand. If
he acknowledged her, the vindictive creature who passed as his wife would crush her professionally. If he
denied her, they'd know he was lying to save herтАФand the consequences might prove even less pleasant.
And what difference would her ruin make to him? She had sensed at once his monumental selfishness.
And even if that conceit, that gorgeous self-love urged him to preserve her for her hypothetical value in
finishing up the Rose score, she didn't see how he was going to manage it.

"Do you recognize her, Mr. Jacques," demanded Grade.