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

Holmes gazed with hooded eyes at Sir Arthur, and held his silence.
"It's well known that entities from diverse places and times-- not only relatives-- communicate from the
other side," I said. "How extraordinary it would be, were Isaac Newton to return, after nearly two
centuries of pure thought!"
"'Extraordinary,'" Holmes muttered, "would hardly be the word for it." He fastened his gaze upon Sir
Arthur. "Dr. Conan Doyle," he said, "if you believe spirits are the cause of this odd phenomenon-- why
did you engage me to investigate?"
"Because, Mr. Holmes, if you cannot lay the cause to any worldly agent, then the only possible
explanation is a spiritual one. 'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however
improbable, must be the truth!' You will help me prove my case."
"I see," Holmes said. "You have engaged me to eliminate causes more impossible than the visitations of
spirits. You have engaged me... to fail."
"I would not have put it so," Sir Arthur said.
The trip continued in rather strained silence. Sir Arthur fell into a restless doze. Holmes stared at the
passing landscape, his long limbs taut with unspent energy. After an eternity, we reached the Hindhead
station. I roused Sir Arthur, who awoke with a great gasp of breath.
"Ma'am!" he cried, then came to himself and apologized most sincerely. "I was dreaming," he said.
"My dear, late mother came to me. She encourages us to proceed!"
Holmes made no reply.
Sir Arthur's carriage, drawn by a pair of fine bays, awaited us.
"The automobile can't be started, sir," the driver said. "We've sent to London for the mechanic."
"Very well, James," Sir Arthur said. He shook his head as we climbed into the carriage. "The motor
was quite astonishingly reliable when first I bought it. But recently it has broken down more often than it
has run."
The comment drew Holmes's attention. "When, exactly, did it begin to fail?"
"Eight weeks past," Sir Arthur said.
"At the same time the field theorems began to appear," Holmes said thoughtfully.
Sir Arthur chuckled. "Why, Mr. Holmes, surely you don't believe the spirits would try to communicate
by breaking my autocar!"
"No, Sir Arthur, you are quite correct. I do not believe the spirits would try to communicate by
breaking your autocar."
"Merely a coincidence."
"I do not believe in coincidences."
Holmes was anxious to inspect the field theorems as soon as we arrived at Undershaw, but by then it
was full dark. Sir Arthur showed the strain of a long and taxing day. He promised that we should leap out
of bed before dawn and be at his tenant's field as the first rays of the morning sun touched the dewdrops
of night.
And so we did; and so we were.
The descriptions and newspaper engravings of the field theorems did not do justice to the magnitude of
the patterns. We stood on a hillside above the field to gain an overview of the damage. Three wide paths,
perfectly circular and perfectly concentric, cut through the waving stalks of grain. A tangent, two radii,
and a chord decorated the circles. I had to admit that the pattern resembled nothing so much as the proof
of some otherworldly geometric proposition.
"The theorems appear only in wheat fields," Sir Arthur said. "Only in our most important crop. Never
in fields of oats, nor in Indian corn."
Holmes made an inarticulate sound of acknowledgment.
We descended the hill, and Holmes entered the field.
Sir Arthur looked after him. "John," he said to me, "will your friend admit it, if he can find no natural
explanation?"
"His allegiance is to the truth, Sir Arthur," I said. "He does not enjoy failure-- but he would fail before