"Henry Kuttner (as Lewis Padgett) - The Twonky UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kuttner Henry)

He went back into the shop. Then the last of the mists cleared from his mind. JoeТs shoulders jerked convulsively.
УGreat Snell!Ф he gasped. УSo that was it! I ran into a temporal snag!Ф
With a startled glance around, he fled to the storeroom from which he had first emerged. The overalls he took off and returned to their hook. After that, Joe went over to a corner, felt around in the air, nodded with satisfaction, and seated himself on nothing, three feet above the floor. Then Joe vanished.

УTime,Ф said Kerry WTesterfield, Уis curved. Eventually it gets back to the same place where it started. ThatТs duplication.Ф He put his feet up on a conveniently outjutting rock of the chimney and stretched luxuriously. From the kitchen Martha made clinking noises with bottles and glasses.
УYesterday at this time I had a Martini,Ф Kerry said. УThe time curve indicates that I should have another one now. Are you listening, angel?Ф
УIТm pouring,Ф said the angel distantly.
УYou get my point, then. HereТs another. Time describes a spiral instead of a circle. If you call the first cycle a, the second oneТs a plus iЧsee? Which means a double Martini tonight.Ф
УI know where that would end,Ф Martha remarked, coming into the spacious, oak-raftered living room. She was a small, dark-haired woman with a singularly pretty face and a figure to match. Her tiny gingham apron looked slightly absurd in combination with slacks and silk blouse. УAnd they donТt make infinity-proof gin. HereТs your Martini.Ф She did things with the shaker and manipulated glasses.
УStir slowly,Ф Kerry cautioned. УNever shake. AhЧthatТs it.Ф He accepted the drink and eyed it appreciatively. Black hair, sprinkled with gray, gleamed in the lamplight as he sipped the Martini. УGood. Very good.Ф
Martha drank slowly and eyed her husband. A nice guy, Kerry Westerfield. He was forty-odd, pleasantly ugly, with a wide mouth and an occasional sardonic gleam in his gray eyes as he contemplated life. They had been married for twelve years, and liked it.
From outside, the late faint glow of sunset came through the windows, picking out the console cabinet that stood against the wall by the door. Kerry peered at it with appreciation.
УA pretty penny,Ф he remarked. УStillЧФ
УWhat? Oh. The men had a tough time getting it up the Сstairs. Why donТt you try it, Kerry?Ф
УDidnТt you?Ф
УThe old one was complicated enough,Ф Martha said, in a baffled manner. УGadgets. They confuse me. I was brought up on an Edison. You wound it up with a crank, and strange noises came out of a horn. That I could understand. But nowЧyou push a button, and extraordinary things happen. Electric eyes, tone selections, records that get played on both sides, to the accompaniment of weird groanings and clickings from inside the consoleЧprobably you understand those things. I donТt even want to. Whenever I play a Crosby record in a superdooper like that, Bing seems embarrassed.Ф
Keny ate his olive. УIТm going to play some Sibelius.Ф He nodded toward a table. УThereТs a new Crosby record for you. The latest.Ф
Martha wriggled happily. УCan I, maybe, huh?Ф
УUh-huh.Ф
УBut youТll have to show me how.Ф
УSimple enough,Ф said Kerry, beaming at the console. УThose babies are pretty good, you know. They do everything but think.Ф
УI wish itТd wash dishes,Ф Martha remarked. She set down her glass, got up, and vanished into the kitchen.

Kerry snapped on a lamp near by and went over to examine the new radio, MideasternТs latest model, with all the new improvements. It had been expensiveЧbut what the hell? He could afford it. And the old one had been pretty well shot.
It was not, he saw, plugged in. Nor were there any wires in evidence
Чnot even a ground. Something new, perhaps. Built-in antenna and ground. Kerry crouched down, looked for a socket, and plugged the cord into it.
That done, he opened the doors and eyed the dials with every appearance of satisfaction. A beam of bluish light shot out and hit him in the eyes. From the depths of the console a faint, thoughtful clicking proceeded. Abruptly it stopped. Kerry blinked, fiddled with dials and switches, and bit at a fingernail.
The radio said, in a distant voice, УPsychology pattern checked and recorded.Ф
УEh?Ф Kerry twirled a dial. УWonder what that was? Amateur stationЧno, theyТre off the air. Hm-m-m.Ф He shrugged and went over to a chair beside the shelves of albums. His gaze ran swiftly over the titles and composersТ names. Where was the УSwan of TuonelaФ? There it was, next to УFinlandia.Ф Kerry took down the album and opened it in his lap. With his free hand he extracted a cigarette from his pocket, put it between his lips, and fumbled for the matches on the table beside him. The first match he lit went out.
He tossed it into the fireplace and was about to reach for another when a faint noise caught his attention. The radio was walking across the room toward him. A whiplike tendril flicked out from somewhere, picked up a match, scratched it beneath the table topЧas Kerry had doneЧand held the flame to the manТs cigarette.
Automatic reflexes took over. Keriy sucked in his breath, and exploded in smoky, racking coughs. He bent double, gasping and momentarily blind.
When he could see again, the radio was back in its accustomed place.
Kerry caught his lower lip between his teeth. УMartha,Ф he called.
УSoupТs on,Ф her voice said.
Keny didnТt answer. He stood up, went over to the radio, and looked at it hesitantly. The electric cord had been pulled out of its socket. Kerry gingerly replaced it.
He crouched to examine the consoleТs legs. They looked like finely finished wood. His exploratory hand told him nothing. WoodЧhard and brittle.
How in hellЧ УDinner!Ф Martha called.
Kerry threw his cigarette into the fireplace and slowly walked out of the room. His wife, setting a gravy boat in place, stared at him.
УHow many Martinis did you have?Ф
УJust one,Ф Kerry said in a vague way. УI must have dozed off for a minute. Yeah. I must have.Ф
УWell, fall to,Ф Martha commanded. УThis is the last chance youТll have to make a pig of yourself on my dumplings, for a week, anyway.Ф
Kerry absently felt for his wallet, took out an envelope, and tossed it toward his wife. УHereТs your ticket, angel. DonТt lose it.Ф
УOh? I rate a compartment!Ф Martha thrust the pasteboard back into its envelope and gurgled happily. УYouТre a pal. Sure you can get along without me?Ф
УHuh? Hm-m-mЧI think so.Ф Kerry salted his avocado. He shook himself and seemed to come out of a slight daze. УSure, IТll be all right. You trot off to Denver and help Carol have her baby. ItТs all in the family.Ф
УWe-ell, my only sisterЧФ Martha grinned. УYou know how she and Bill are. Quite nuts. TheyТll need a steadying hand just now.Ф
There was no reply. Kerry was brooding over a forkful of avocado. He muttered something about the Venerable Bede.
УWhat about him?Ф
УLecture tomorrow. Every term we bog down on the Bede, for some strange reason. Ah, well.Ф
УGot your lecture ready?Ф
Kerry nodded. УSure.Ф For eight years he had taught at the University, and he certainly should know the schedule by this time!