"Hogan, James P - Every Child Is Born A Scientist" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hogan James P)

"Thank you, no. I'll enjoy some in comfort when we have completely finished. How near the end are we?"

Craymer consulted the typed schedule that he was holding.

"Well, there's some outside shooting to be done now that the Sun's at the right angle . . . some close-ups of instruments to go with the commentary we recorded yesterday. Lemme see now, where are your parts . . . Here we are-there's only one more shot that involves you and that's coming up right now. That'll be a retake of the beginning of sequence 5 . . . the one where you talk about radiation from black holes."

"Ah, yes. Very good."

Craymer closed the folder and turned to look out across the floor with Zimmermann.

"I guess you'll be glad to get back to your work without this bedlam going on all the time," he said. "You've been very patient and cooperative while we've been here. I'd like you to know that all the people on the team appreciate it."

"Quite the contrary, Mr. Craymer," Zimmermann replied. "It has been my pleasure. The public has paid for everything here, including my salary; they have a right to be kept informed of what we are doing and why. Besides, anything that popularizes the true nature of science is worth a little time and trouble, don't you think?"

Craymer smiled ruefully as he recalled the problems that they had encountered with petty bureaucrats in Washington six months before, when they had tried to put a documentary together on spacecraft navigation and propulsion systems. In the end they'd had to abandon the project, since what was left after the censoring wouldn't have made a lesson fit for elementary school students.

"I wish more people thought that way these days," he said. "They're all going paranoid back home."

"I can well imagine," Zimmermann replied, moving aside to make room for a technician who was positioning a spotlight according to directions being shouted from across the room.

As they began threading their way toward the area where the next shooting sequence would take place, Craymer asked: "How long have you been up here now?"

"Oh, eighteen months or more, I suppose . . . although I do visit Earth from time to time. It may sound strange but I really miss very little. My work is here and, as I said a moment ago, the environment is stimulating. We have no interruptions and are largely left free of interference of any kind."

"Must be nice to be able to do your own thing," Craymer agreed. "You steer clear of all the sordid political stuff then, huh?"

"Yes, I suppose we do . . . but it has not always been so. I have held a number of government scientific positions, over several years . . . in Germany you understand, before the formation of U.S. Europe. However . . ." Zimmermann sighed, "when it became apparent that official support would be progressively restricted to activities of the kind in which neither my conscience nor my interests made me wish to participate, I resigned and joined the International Scientific Foundation. It is completely autonomous, you see, being funded entirely from private and voluntary sources."

"Yeah, I know. I'm surprised the USE government didn't try and make things difficult . . . or maybe you don't push around easy?"

Zimmerman smiled and scratched an eyebrow.

"I think it was more a question of persuading them that neither I nor my particular kind of knowledge would have been of very much use to them," he said.

Craymer reflected that the more he saw of life, the more he became convinced that the quality of modesty was the preserve solely of the truly great men that he happened to meet. The amplified voice of the floor director boomed around the room, curtailing their conversation.

"All right, everybody. In your places for the sequence 5 retake now. This will be the last one today. Let's make it good." The murmuring died away and the arc lights came on to flood a backdrop set up against one wall. To the right of the backdrop, banks of instrument panels and consoles carried a colorful array of blinking lights and display screens. Zimmermann moved forward from the jumble of cameras, microphone booms, chairs, and figures, to stand in the semicircle of light in front of the consoles. A short distance to his right, Martin Borel, compere of the documentary, took his position in front of the backdrop.

The floor director's voice came again. "Mart-this time, start moving to your left as soon as you say '. . . the most perplexing phenomena known to man.' Take it at the same speed as last time-that way the professor will appear on camera just as you introduce him. Okay?"

"Sure thing," Borel acknowledged.

"Professor?"

"Yes?"

"When you refer to the equipment behind you for the first time, do you think you could move back for about five seconds so that we can pan in on it, please? Then close back in with Mart and resume the dialogue."

"Certainly."