"James Patrick Kelly - The Propagation Of Light In A Vacuum" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kelly James Patrick)

The Propagation of Light
in a Vacuum
a short story by James Patrick Kelly

Introduction

"The Propagation of Light in a Vacuum" is probably my favorite James
Patrick Kelly story that no one knows about. I was quite thrilled to sell
it to Bob Silverberg and Karen Haber back in 1990 for the revival of the
Universe series of original anthologies, edited by Terry Carr.
Unfortunately, Universe collapsed.
The story is a stylistic experiment: magic realism hitching a ride on a
hard science starship. I freely admit to committing a circular plot,
playing with punctuation and jumping off the page to throttle the reader.
Also, this is the only story of mine to include a recipe.
Disappointed that "The Propagation of Light in a Vacuum" did not
immediately find its audience, I took to reading it in public. It proved
an interesting piece to perform; audiences seemed to like it. In 1996, I
rewrote it as a one act play; it has received several staged readings and
will get its first full production in May of 1998.

The Propagation of Light in a Vacuum

Women have served all these centuries as looking-glasses possessing the
magic and delicious power of reflecting the figure of man at twice its
natural size.
Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own

Maybe you think I'm different, but I've got the same problems everyone
has. Just because I'm on a starship traveling at the speed of light
doesn't mean my feelings can't be hurt. I still get hungry. Bored. I lust
like any other man. When a bell rings, I jump. I don't much like
uncertainty and I have to clip my toenails every so often. I want my life
to have a purpose.
(You're nattering, dear. This is about us, so go ahead and tell them.)
Ah.
Yes.
My imaginary wife and I are much happier these days, thank you. We've come
through some tough times and we're still together. So far. But we still
have a way to go. Exactly how long, I'm not sure. When you attempt to
exceed 299,792.46 kilometers per second, here and there are only
probabilities. Relative to you, I am no place. I do not exist.
I used to think that she was a hallucination, my sweet imaginary wife.
Proof that I'd gone mad. Not any more. If I ask her whether she exists,
she just laughs. I like this about her. We often laugh together. She keeps
changing though; I'm afraid she aspires to reality. I had a real wife once
but it wasn't the same.
(You're an artist. She didn't understand you.)
I don't want to paint too rosy a picture. Like any couple, we have our ups
and downs. Then again, down and up are relative terms which vary with the