"Charles L. Harness-Child by Chronos" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harness Charles L)

of the resultant two cells is the mother? Which the daughter? The answer is, that the question itself is
nonsense. And so with you. The cell divides in space; you divide in time. It's nonsense to ask which of
you is mother, which is daughter."
I just stood there, blinking.
He rambled on. "Even so, why should I want to 'go through'? That's the only part that's not clear. Why
should I deliberately skip twenty years of life with you? Who'd take care of you? How could you earn a
living? But you must have. Because you didn't have to sell Skyridge. You stayed here. You educated
her. But of course!" He smacked his fist into his palm.
"Simplest thing in the world," he howled happily. "Counterpoint at the Preakness. You'll become a
professional predictor. Sports. Presidential elections. Supreme Court decisions. All in advance. You've
got to remember. Train your ability to recall. Big money in it!"
My mouth was hanging open.
"Isn't that what happens?" he shouted.
"I know all the headlines already," I stammered. "Only that's the business mother started... predicting
for a living..."
"Mother... mother... mother!" he mimicked. "By the great Chronos, child! Can't you face it? Does
your mind refuse to accept the fact that you and your 'mother' and your unborn daughter are iden-- "
I screamed, "No!"
I pulled out the pistol.
I raised it slowly, as though I had all the time in the world, and shot him through the head.
Even before he hit the floor I had grabbed his right hand and was flexing his fingers around the handle.
A moment later I was out the door and racing toward the garage.
I thought it would be best to "find" his body on returning from a shopping expedition in the village,
where I had happened to pick up a couple of friends. The only thing wrong with this plan was that he
wasn't there when I returned home with my witnesses.
***


It was generally agreed that James McCarren had become lost in the woods while hunting. Poor
fellow must have starved to death, they supposed. Neither he nor the pistol were ever found. A few
months later he was declared legally dead, and I collected his insurance.
The coroner and the D.A. did give me a bad moment when they discovered some thin smudges of
blood leading toward the edge of the balcony. But nothing turned up, of course, when they dragged the
whirlpool. And when I informed them of my condition, their unvoiced suspicions turned to sympathy.
From then on, I had plenty of time to think. Particularly during the first lean months of Tomorrow, Inc.,
before I landed my first retainer.
And what I thought was this: what other woman had ever had a man who loved her so much, even
after she had shot him through the eye, that he would willingly drag himself after her, through twenty
years, to claim her again, sight unseen? The very least I could do was to drain the ravine and break your
fall with this haystack.
Do you honestly like my new sunbrief? The red and green checks go nicely with the yellow hay, don't
they? Do you really want me to come over and sit by you? Oh, don't worry about interruptions. The
servants are down in the village, and she won't come sneaking around the woods for an hour yet...
Ooooh, Johnny!