"Simon Hawke - Sorcerer 1 - The Reluctant Sorcerer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawke Simon)

impact on his formative years. The one that had made him
realize exactly what he wanted to be when he grew up. He
first saw it at the age of nine and from that moment on, he
knew. He was going to be a mad scientist.

It wasn't Boris KarlofiFs portrayal of the monster that had
so affected him, nor the idea of creating life from sewn-
together pieces of dead bodies, it was that laboratory. All
that marvelous equipment. The bubbling vials and beakers,
the intricate plumbing and wiring, the spinning dials, the
Jacob's ladder arcing electrical current.... He took one
look at that wonderful laboratory and he fell in love, a love
far deeper and more abiding than he would ever feel for any
woman, even a woman as undeniably womanly as Pamela
Fairbum.

She knew and understood this. Earlier that evening, when
she had spotted the listing for the film, she'd realized what
was liable to happen and she had hidden the TV Guide, but
Brewster had just happened to turn on the tube after their

The Reluctant Sorcerer тАв 3

late-night dinner, and scanning through the channels, he'd
stumbled on the film. Now Pamela knew there'd be no
prying him away till it was over.

'She sighed with resignation and walked over to the couch
where he was sitting, settled down onto the floor beside
him, and leaned her head against his knee. Without turning
from the television, he offered her the bowl of popcorn. She
took a handful and popped it in her mouth. Even in her
sexiest lingerie, she knew she couldn't compete. She didn't
really mind, however. She understood about obsession. She
had one of her own, and that was her career as a cybernetics
engineer, which was how she had met Brewster.

It had been during a symposium at Cambridge. She'd
spotted him at once. He was the only American present, but
that wasn't what had made him stand out. There was just
something about him, about his rumpled, tweedy, and horn-
rimmed appearance, his curly and unkempt blond hair, his
rather shambling and distracted manner, and his total unself-
consciousness that had struck her as incredibly endearing.
He was part little boy, part unmade t-?d. He had gotten to
her where she lived, where most women live, in fact. Right
smack in her maternal instinct. She wanted to pull him to
her breast and hug him to pieces.

She was later to discover that Brewster often had that