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

 Elizabeth blushed, and fought the urge to clench her fists. This is the twenty-first century. Why do
we still have to put up with this?
"Ms. Gerard," said Wright gently, "would you excuse us for a moment?"
"Of course." She rose from her chair. They had decided she was useless, and they were going to take
her off the case before she was ever really on it.
Like hell they were.
***


* * *


2. The Fax
***


She turned when she reached the door. "Before I go, I'd like to mention that Leonardo da Vinci
described an apparatus very similar to that of the interference count in Notebook 23, Codex IV, pages
forty and forty-one. It's in the data banks at the Library of Congress, and you can call up a fax in
seconds, if you're interested." She started out into the reception room.
"Ms. Gerard," Wright called quickly. "Just a minute, please."
"Oh?"
Wright nodded toward his credenza. "Use my fax."
She walked back in, punched in the call, and the printer lasered the reply in less than three minutes.
The two men hovered over the machine. No room for Elizabeth. No matter. She had caught a glimpse: a
sketch of a tetrahedron, plus lines of tiny elegant letters.
"Interesting," admitted Wright. "Very. What does the writing say?" He handed it over to Pellar.
The associate shook his head. "It's all gobbledygook. Illegible. Worthless!"
"He wrote right to left," explained Elizabeth. "You read it with a mirror. I assume there's one in Mr.
Wright's washroom?"
"Sir?"
"Go ahead."
"It's-- " began Elizabeth.
Pellar pushed he aside, but after a moment he wailed from the little room: "I still can't read it."
"It's in Italian," said Elizabeth. She walked up behind him. "It says, 'A tetrahedron is required, of a size
such that a man can stand within. The four triangles are formed of silver tubes filled with water distilled
from forty tuns by the alchemist. The traveler stands in the center of the base triangle. He attaches the
headband. He holds the black cube, and he attunes his mind to the... (hmm-- strange word here... ah...)
back-time. He sees-- hmm... scacchiera... yes, chessboard. By means of this assembly I was able to
finish the Cenacolo for the friars in Milan!"
"Chay-nak-olo?" said Pellar. "What's that?"
"The Last Supper," explained Elizabeth. "He painted it on a monastery wall in Milan in the late 1400s."
"He used the apparatus to complete a painting?" asked Wright. "How? Why?"
"I don't know," said Elizabeth. "He doesn't say."
"But, sir," Pellar said, "Five hundred years ago how could anybody know anything about space-time
and quantum physics? And especially this fellow Leonardo? He was just a painter."
"Leonardo had an ultra-genius IQ," Elizabeth answered stoutly. "Some psychologists place it at 250,
some even at 300, beyond Einstein. He had brainpower adequate to create your TM. From the
description that he left, it appears that he did just that."
"Appears?" sneered Pellar.