"James P. Hogan - Giants 4 - Entoverse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hogan James P)

little liking between the two of them either way. The fact that he had come
down to the basement at all indicated that he was out to cause trouble.
"The priests know!" Keyalo retorted. "The gods are putting us to a test.
And we shall all be judged by the failures of those who deny them, such as
you."
"Appeasing the gods, angering the gods..." Dalgren shook his head. "I'm
beginning to suspect that it's all in the mind. The world runs according to
its own rules, and what we think they influence is all our imagination. When
has anyone ever -- "
Without warning, Keyalo stepped forward and shot out an arm in the
manner of a Master casting a firebolt, pointing at the mechanism on the slab.
The tip of his finger swelled and glowed faintly for an instant -- most people
could achieve that -- and then returned to normal without discharging. Keyalo
stared at it in anger and surprised disappointment.
Perhaps he had thought that a concentrated moment of belief and will
would induce a god to favor him.
Keyalo's problem was that he was lazy. He hung around the disciples and
the Masters, and sometimes attended the ceremonies, and even a few of the
lessons, occasionally; but he could never have mustered the concentration and
discipline to enter one of the orders and train into an adept. Probably that
was why he was so jealous of Thrax, whom he knew had the potential. But in
Keyalo's eyes Thrax not only abused his ability but, what was worse,
misdirected it upon heresy.
"We are busy," Dalgren said in a tight voice. "Your words are wasted
here, Keyalo. Leave us alone."
"It is those like you who are bringing destruction on all of us," Keyalo
hissed. Then, white-faced with rage, he turned and left the room.
Dalgren took the rods and walked the device back across the slab in
silence while the mood cleared. "They say there are devices in Hyperia that
propel themselves," he murmured absently. "Imagine, Thrax, a chariot without a
drodhz. What form of propulsion could move it, I wonder?"
"They say there are devices that fly, too," Thrax pointed out, his voice
registering the obvious impossibility of such a notion. "The stories become
exaggerated with telling and retelling."
But Dalgren's expression remained serious. "But why not?" he asked. "It
simply involves the same way of looking at things: Instead of jumping to the
conclusion that it can't work because, try saying, it could work, if...You've
only got to open your eyes to see that the world is filled with animals that
propel themselves and creatures that fly. If we can make other objects do
whatever they do, then why shouldn't they behave in the same way?"
Thrax nodded, but his expression remained unconvinced. "Maybe I'll
believe it when I've seen a drodhzless carriage," he said. "You know, Uncle,
it wouldn't surprise me if you start talking about spinning objects next."
Dalgren let go the rods and straightened up. "Spinning objects?" he
repeated. "Now you are getting fanciful. I couldn't even imagine how to
begin."
Thrax stared out at the patch of sky visible through the top of the
basement window. "It's the same seers who tell of them," he pointed out.
"Ah yes. But if it's true, it's something that can only exist in
Hyperia. Our animals prove that at least the concepts of objects propelling