"Vonda N. McIntyre - The Adventure of the Field Theorems" - читать интересную книгу автора (McIntyre Vonda N)

The Adventure of the Field Theorems
by Vonda N. McIntyre
This story copyright 1997 by Vonda N. McIntyre. This copy was created for Jean
Hardy's personal use. All other rights are reserved. Thank you for honoring the
copyright.

Published by Seattle Book Company, www.seattlebook.com.


* * *


Holmes laughed like a Bedlam escapee.
Considerably startled by his outburst, I lowered my Times, where I had been engrossed in an article
about a new geometrical pattern discovered in the fields of Surrey. I had not yet decided whether to
bring it to Holmes's attention.
"What amuses you so, Holmes?"
No interesting case had challenged Holmes of late, and I wondered, fearfully, if boredom had led him
to take up, once again, the habit of cocaine.
Holmes's laughter died, and an expression of thoughtful distress replaced the levity. His eyes revealed
none of the languorous excitement of the drug.
"I am amused by the delusions of our species, Watson," Holmes said. "Amusing on the surface, but, on
reflection, distressing."
I waited for his explanation.
"Can you not discern the reason for my amusement, Watson-- and my distress? I should think it
perfectly obvious."
I considered. Should he encounter an article written particularly for its humorous content, he would
pass straight over it, finding it as useless to him as the orbits of the planets. The description of some brutal
crime surely would not amuse him. A trace of Moriarty would raise him to anger or plunge him into
despair.
"Ah," I said, certain I had divined the truth. "You have read an account of a crime, I beg your pardon,
the resolution of a crime, and you have seen the failings in the analysis. But," I pointed out, somewhat
disturbed by my friend's indifference to the deeper ramifications, "that would indicate the arrest of an
innocent victim, Holmes. Surely you should have some other reaction than laughter."
"Surely I should," Holmes said, "if that were the explanation. It is not." He shook the paper. "Here is a
comment by Conan Doyle on Houdini's recent performance."
"Quite impressive it was, too," I said. "Thrilling, I would say. Did Sir Arthur find the performance
compelling?"
"Conan Doyle," Holmes said with saturnine animosity, "attributes Houdini's achievements to," Holmes
sneered, "'mediumistic powers.'"
"His achievements do strain credulity," I said mildly.
"Pah!" Holmes said. "That is the point, Watson, the entire and complete point! Would you pay good
money to see him fail to escape from a sealed coffin?"
"I suppose that I would not," I admitted.
"Were Houdini to tell you his methods, you would reply, 'But that is so simple! Anyone could achieve
the same effect-- using your methods!'"
As Holmes often heard the same remark after explaining his methods, I began to understand his
outburst.
"I would say nothing of the sort," I said. "I should say, instead, that he had brought the technique of
stage magicianship to as near an exact science as it ever will be brought in this world."