"Henry Kuttner - Shock UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kuttner Henry)

'That's the way you're keeping your emotional balance,' Gregg told him. 'I prefer to do it along the lines of mathematics. Working out the equation, from what factors we've got. Induction won't tell us much, but it shows what a tremendous thing the whole must be. A perfect worldЧЧ'

'How d'you know?'

Gregg was stumped. 'Well, it seemed that way. In a few thousand years civilization will have time to apply technology and use the nuances. Physically and mentally. The best part of it is that they won't be snooty about it. They can't. Anyhow, Halison wasn't.'

'That hole isn't getting any bigger,' MacPherson said. 'I've been watching a spot on the wallpaper.'

'Well,' Gregg said inconclusively, 'it's not getting smaller, either. Wish I knew how to open the doors in there. So damn much I can't understand by myself!'

'Have another drink. That may help.'

It didn't, much. Gregg didn't quite dare go through the valve again, for fear it might close suddenly, and he sat with MacPherson, smoking, drinking, and talking, while the night moved slowly on. From time to time they re-examined the book. That told them nothing.

Halison remained absent. At three A.M. the valve began closing. Gregg remembered what the man from the future had said; that the gap would open at night and remain closed by day. Presumably it would open again. If it didn't, then the chance of a hundred lifetimes had been muffed!

In half an hour the valve had shut completely, leaving no trace on the wallpaper. MacPherson, glassy about die eyes, returned to his own apartment. Gregg locked the book in a desk drawer and went to bed to snatch a few hours' sleep before the alarm roused him.

Later, dressing, Gregg phoned Haverhill Research to say he would not be in that day. In case Halison showed up, he wanted to be on hand. But Halison did not arrive. Gregg spent the

morning crushing out cigarettes and thumbing through the book. In the afternoon he sent it by messenger to Courtney, at the university, with a brief note asking for information. Courtney. whose forte was languages, telephoned to say he was baffled.

Naturally he was curious. Gregg spent an awkward five minutes putting him off, and decided to be more wary next time. He was not anxious to release his secret to the world. Even MacPhersonЧwell, that couldn't be helped now. But this was Manning Gregg's discovery, and it was only fair that he should have first rights.

Gregg's selfishness was completely unmercenary. Had he analyzed his motives, he would have realized dial he was greedy for intellectual intoxicationЧthat was the only suitable term. Gregg did have a really fine, keen-edged brain, and took an intense delight in using it. He could get positively drunk on the working out of technical problems, die same pleasure an engineer feels at sight of a beautifully executed blueprint, or a pianist confronted by an intricate composition. He was a perfectionist. And to be given a key to the perfect world of the futureЧЧ

He was not certain of its perfection, of course, but later he felt more certain. Especially after the valve slowly began opening at six thirty that evening.

This time Gregg went through as soon as the hole was large enough to admit him. He had plenty of time. His search for a door proved fruitless, but he did make' another discoveryЧthe blue walls were in reality the doors of immense cupboards, full of extraordinary objects. Books, of courseЧthough he could read none of them. Some of the charts were tantalizingly on the edge of translation into his own focus of understanding, but not quite. Pictures, three-dimensional and tinted, proved fascinating in their dim glimpses of the life of the future. It was, he suspected, a happy sort of life.

The cupboardsЧЧ

They held the damnedest things. No doubt they were all perfectly familiar to Halison, but what, for example, could Gregg make of a two-foot doll, modeled after a future human, that recited what seemed to be poetry in an unknown tongue? The rhyme scheme was remarkable, from what Gregg could understand of itЧan intricate, bizarre counterpoint diat had a definite emotional effect, even in the alien language.

And then there were more of the rubbery, glassy blocks, with moving lights inside;' and metallic frameworksЧone of which Gregg recognized as a model of a solar system; and a hydroponic garden with chameleon qualities; and plastics of possibly mythical animals that could be merged to produce other animals that were crosses or sportsЧan incredible demonstration of pure genetics, this; and more, and more, and morel Gregg got dizzy. He had to go to the windows to recuperate.

The rainbow lights still flashed through the dark. Far below he could make out intermittent blazes of radiance, as though star shells were bursting. For a shocked instant he thought of war. Another glow, fountaining up, relieved him; by craning his neck, he could see tiny figures posturing and dancing in mid-air in a tumultuous sea of color, perhaps a ballet without gravity. No, this was the perfect world.

He was, suddenly, overcome by an intense desire to emerge from this silent room into that blazing, joyous tumult outside. But he could find no way of opening the windows. And the springs that controlled the doors still eluded him. It had not been easy to discover the concealed buttons that operated the cupboards, Gregg remembered.

He thought, with grim amusement, of old Duffey at the Haver-hill, and how the man would react to sight of all this. Well, the devil with Duffey. Later, the world could drink, but he wantedЧ and deservedЧthe first ecstatic sip from this bottle of vintage wine.

He hoped someone would come into Halison's apartment, perhaps Ranil-Mens. There might be some semantic difficulties at first, unless the visitor had troubled to learn archaic EnglishЧ which wasn't likelyЧbut these wouldn't be insurmountable. If only Ranil-Mens would appear, to point out how the gadgets in the cupboards worked! A fine spot for a physicist!

Nobody appeared, however, and, bearing booty, Gregg returned to his own time-sector, finding MacPherson sprawled in a chair drinking highballs and eying the valve skeptically.

'How"d you get in?' Gregg demanded.

'Walked in,' MacPherson said. 'The door was open. Halison was standing inside, so I stopped to see what was up. He's real, all right.' Ice cubes clinked.