"Lumley,.Brian.-.Titus.Crow.2.-.Transition.Of.Titus.Crow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lumley Brian)

I had to allow her that, it's my belief, at any rate,' I

continued, 'that Titus is indeed lost in time. Peaslee and I have talked about it; the professor agrees with me. But I suppose I'd better tell you the whole story. That way perhaps -'
'No need,' she quickly answered, stretching out a trembling hand to touch my forehead, 'simply let yourself think back on it.'
Her eyes clouded over and she swayed. Belatedly remembering my manners I steadied her and sat her down in a chair, and all the while her cool, trembling hand rested upon my forehead. Finally her eyes brightened and she withdrew her hand.
'So that is how it was,' she said. 'That old clock of his. Until now I had not known . . .'
Now it was my turn to express surprise. I had been on the point of telling her about Crow's departure from Blowne House into time, but should that really have been necessary? Surely, as a member of the Foundation . . .? Her last statement, if she was all she made out to be, struck me as being more than peculiar. 'But that's strange,' I said, 'I should have thought that you, of all people, would be the very one to know such things?'
She looked at me searchingly, questioningly for a moment, and then her eyebrows knitted in a frown of displeasure, 'I said I can receive the thoughts of others, young man, not that I steal them. I would not dream of looking into the mind of another uninvited either by word or gesture. That would be a hideous curiosity. I would no sooner do that than enter another's house unbidden or read another's diary.'
'But when you first knocked at my door - ' I started to
protest.
'Do you think you are the only one who fears the CCD?' she quickly asked. 'When I came to your house I instinctively checked that it was a man waiting for me

behind the door. I merely brushed your mind, sufficiently to read your own fear.'
'But it's been ten years since we departed. Surely, as a member of the Foundation, and as a personal friend of Titus Crow you -'
"About the Wilmarth Foundation,' she answered. 'I accept what I'm told; I don't probe where I'm unwelcome. This is an unspoken rule among all telepaths who work for the Foundation. If Peaslee had wanted to tell me about you and Titus he would have done so. I respect his leadership and where work is concerned I only interest myself in those projects and experiments which he authorizes. This does not mean, however, that the Foundation governs me utterly; on the contrary, I retain my own private interests. I have my own friends and I am loyal to them, as I hope they are to me. Titus Crow has been a friend for many years.'
'And you say that he has . . . contacted you?' 'He has, yes, and now that I know his predicament I am sure that I was right to come and see you. You were correct, he is lost in space and time, trying to find his way home. He is like a sailor of the old times, lost on alien seas, compass gone and the stars unreadable. I think you have some link between you, you and Titus, some sense perhaps akin to ESP, by which you feel for each other without being truly telepathic. He needs to home in on you, Mr de Marigny. He wants you to hold out a light in the darkness, one that he can follow back to his own time and space.'
I thought about what she had said for a moment, trying hard to understand. 'Are there no others with better qualifications?' I finally asked. 'Surely there are telepaths within the Foundation who -'
'But he does not want the Foundation to know,' she answered. 'And in any case, this link between you two is

not truly telepathic. It is something grown of long and close friendship, closer even than my own with Titus. Are you not aware of this psychic affinity.? Have you not experienced anything of it before?'
I nodded. 'At the very start of all this, when Titus first discovered the burrowers, I was in Paris. Suddenly I had to get back to England. I came home and I knew as soon as I found Crow's letter waiting for me that somehow he had unconsciously called me back. Since then the occasion has not arisen when -'
'Well, now he is calling you again.' She nodded decisively. "This time consciously, knowing what he is about. Has it not been apparent to you? Has there been no hint that he has tried to contact you? No phenomena, dreams perhaps, or -'
'Dreams!' I cried, snapping my fingers. "There have been the most terrifying dreams, of Crow in his great coffin of a clock, hurtling through endless alien universes and crying out to me, searching for me, wanting to know where I-' Finally the last piece of the puzzle had dropped into place. 'Good Lord! And I thought I needed a psychiatrist!'
I thought about it for a moment longer before slapping my thigh with an angry hand. 'But why the devil haven't I realized before just what the dreams meant?'
'The devil indeed,' she answered me, her eyes narrowing. 'It occurs to me that you may well, though perhaps inadvertently, have answered your own question. Perhaps Peaslee told you that for some time now there's been a decided slacking off of specific CCD interference? While the telepathic output of the CCD has not noticeably lessened, for some time they have not been directing their hatred at any recognizable target, neither at specific groups nor any individuals that we have been able to discover. It has been almost as though Cthulhu were

shielding his damned dreams from the Foundation, as though he were intent upon matters very important to him and that he feared the Foundation's interference. Could it be, I wonder, that Cthulhu and the other prime members of the CCD are expending this awful mental energy of theirs in an attempt to -'
'To foul Crow's return to Earth?'
'I wonder,' she answered.
'And my failure to realize that Crow needed my help, you see that also as evidence of CCD interference?'
'It's possible, but I don't think that they're aiming at you in particular. If that were so the Foundation would soon know about it. On the other hand, one of our top psychics at Miskatonic has a theory that the CCD have effectively thrown a mental belt about the whole world, a belt so tenuous as to be telepathically undetectable! And if such is the case, well, there must be a purpose behind it.'
'Titus Crow is only one man,' I said. 'Would his attempting a return out of time and space warrant such furtive CCD activity? I know that he's provided them with a bit of a headache from time to time, but . . .'
'That would rather depend upon where he's been, I think,' she answered. 'And what he's seen and done. Who knows what knowledge he may be bringing back with him?'
After a moment's thought I shrugged my shoulders impatiently. 'This is all very well, but mere speculation will get us nowhere. The only way to make anything concrete out of all this is to get Crow back here. You said he needed me to ... to "hold out a light" for him or some such. What did you mean by that?'
'Only that you must think of him,' she immediately answered. 'Never let him out of your thoughts, not even for a moment. We know that you are not truly telepathic,

Mr de Marigny, but obviously there is this . . . this something between you two, like the psychic link between Siamese twins. He seeks the way home, into safe harbor, and you must be the lighthouse by which he pilots his
ship.'
I nodded. 'Come to think of it, the dreams only come to me when he is on my mind, when I am suddenly reminded of him or when he is strong in my thoughts.'
'Yes,' she answered. 'That would be when your psychic contact with him is at its most powerful.'
I turned to her in consternation. 'But Cthulhu himself often features in these dreams of mine. I see the monster, reaching out for Crow's plummeting coffin-clock, face-tentacles lashing through black light-years of space and infinite abysses of time to fasten upon the vessel, reaching back to a bloated body that fills the cosmos with its evil . . . Would Titus Crow send me dreams such as these?'
'No, I don't suppose he would, but don't forget that he is not alone in his ability to send dreams! Cthulhu might certainly superimpose his own sendings on top of those of Titus. Why, for all we know that may well be the reason for Cthulhu's planet-encircling mental blanket: a jamming device to confuse Crow's calls for assistance!'
For a second or two I considered her answer, then said, 'I'll do as you suggest; I'll not let Crow out of my thoughts for a second. If he wants my mind to be a beacon, then I'll make it one. I'll recall to mind the adventures we've known together, deliberately dwell upon the horrors and perils we faced together as members of the Wilmarth Foundation". If that's the way to get him back, then I'll get him back.' I looked at her. 'Suppose I succeed. Should I contact you?'
She shook her head. 'No, that won't be necessary, I shall know. But until then, from this moment on, I'll have my crowd keep a watch on you, on this place.' She

indicated with a movement of her head the room, the house about us. 'If the CCD are trying to stop Titus from returning, then you never can tell when -'
'When they'll turn from purely mental methods to more direct ones, you mean?' I finished it for her. 'Perhaps
physical ones?'
She nodded gravely, then smiled. 'But that's looking on the black side. Somehow I don't feel in the least pessimistic. But anyway, come on, young man.' She stood up and held out her hand to me. . 'Show me where your kitchen is. We've a lot to talk about yet, and already I'm dry as a bone! What do you say to a cup of coffee?'