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

themselves and objects flying are possible in Waroth. The precedents exist.
But we don't have a precedent for what you're talking about. If it's possible
at all, space itself must be different from what we know in this world. And
quite beyond my ability to contemplate."
Thrax continued to stare up at the window. "Another universe, beyond our
wildest imaginings," he said distantly.
"I think I know how to compensate for the daily contraction, now,"
Dalgren muttered, returning his attention to the mechanism.
"Where objects spin..." Thrax went on dreamily, more to himself.
"Then we'll have to think about getting it to turn corners."
"And inhabited by strange beings."
"We'd need two more slides at the top."
"What kind of beings could they be?"


CHAPTER TWO

Dr. Victor Hunt closed the starter circuit, and the turbine engine of the GM
Husky groundmobile standing in the driveway outside the garage kicked into
life. As Hunt eased the throttle valve open with a screwdriver, the pitch
rose, then settled at a smooth, satisfying whine. He held the position steady
and cocked an inquiring eye at his neighbor, Jerry Santello, who was on the
far side of the opened hood, tapping at buttons and watching the screen of a
portable test unit connected to the vehicle's drive processor.
"It's looking better, Vic. Try it a few revs higher...Now gun it a few
times...Yup, I think we've cracked it."
"How about the burn on idle?" Hunt ran the turbine down to a murmur
while Jerry inspected the panel; then Hunt speeded it back up a little and
repeated the process several times.
"Good," Jerry pronounced. "I reckon that's it. It had to be the
equalizer. Shut it down now, and let's have that beer."
"That sounds like one of the better ideas I've heard today." Hunt turned
tile valve fully back, operated a cutout, and the engine died.
Jerry unplugged the test lead, which rewound itself into the case. He
closed the lid, gathered together the tools they had been using, and returned
them to their box. "How is it with you English guys? Is it right, you drink it
warm? Am I supposed to put it in the cooker or something?"
"Oh, don't believe everything they tell you, Jerry."
Jerry looked relieved. "So it's okay normal?"
"Sure."
"Hang on there while I get a couple from inside. We can sit out here and
take in the sun."
 "Even better."
While Jerry's swarthy, mustached form, clad in beach shorts and a navy
sweatshirt, flip-flopped its way eupeptically up the shallow, curving steps
flanking the rockery by the side of the apartment, Hunt walked around the
front of the Husky to toss a few more items into the toolbox. Then he sat down
on a grassy hump below the wall separating Jerry's driveway from his own and
fished a pack of Winston's from his shirt pocket.
Around him, the other apartment units of Redfern Canyons clustered in