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

"Sir-- !"
I was astonished by the tone of protest in which Robert addressed the landowner.
"It's imperative that no one enter the field!" Sir Arthur said. "The pattern mustn't be disturbed till we
understand its meaning."
"Very well, Sir Arthur," Robert said reluctantly.
 "And set little Robbie and his brothers to keeping the sightseers out of the patterns. They may walk
around the edge, but under no circumstances may they proceed inside."
"But, Sir Arthur, this field, every year, has paid your rent. This field keeps the roof over my family's
head! Sir Arthur, the crop prices have been low going on two years-- "
I did not blame him for his distress, and he was fortunate that Sir Arthur is a humane and decent
gentleman.
"You'll not worry about the rent," Sir Arthur said. "I relieve you of the obligation for this year."
On Robert's open face, gratitude and obligation warred.
"I cannot accept that offer, Sir Arthur," he said, "generous though it is, and grateful though I am to you
for making it. You and I, we have an agreement. I cannot take charity."
Sir Arthur frowned, that his tenant would not accept such a simple solution to the difficulty.
"We'll discuss this another time," Sir Arthur said. "For the moment, keep the sightseers out of the
field." His tone brooked no disagreement.
Robert touched the bill of his ragged cap in acquiescence.
We returned to Sir Arthur's mansion, where his gracious wife Jean, Lady Conan Doyle, presided over
a fine, if long-delayed, breakfast. After our excursion, I was famished, but Holmes merely picked at his
food. This meant the mystery aroused him. As long as it kept his interest, he would hold himself free of
the embrace of cocaine.
For the rest of the day, we accompanied Sir Arthur to other fields where theorems had mysteriously
appeared over the past few weeks. They were all, according to Holmes, sadly trampled.
We spoke to tenants who had also seen lights in the sky, but the apparitions frightened the observers;
each gave a different description, none as coherent as Robert's. I could not imagine what they had
actually seen.
My mind kept returning to Robert's description. Cogent though it had been, something about it nagged
at my memory. I put my unease down to the mystery of the phenomenon. And to my wonder. Holmes's
skepticism notwithstanding, it would be quite marvelous if we were visited by beings from another world,
whether physical or spiritual. Naturally one would prefer friendly beings like those Sir Arthur described,
over the invading forces of Mr. Wells's scientific romances.
Holmes dutifully explored each damaged field, and listened to the descriptions of flashing lights in the
sky. But as he was presented with nothing but old and damaged evidence, his inspections became more
and more desultory as the afternoon wore on, his attention more and more distracted and impatient. He
also grew more and more irritated at Sir Arthur's ruminations on spiritualism, and nothing I could do or
say could divert the conversation. Like any true believer, Sir Arthur was relentless in his proselytizing.
Toward the end of the afternoon, as I began to hope for tea, we rested beneath an ancient oak near a
patterned field.
"Look," Sir Arthur said, "at how the grain has been flattened without breaking. The stalks in the pattern
are as green as the undisturbed growth. Don't you think it odd?"
"Quite odd," I agreed.
"Not odd at all," Holmes said.
He leapt from the carriage, snatched a handful of the crop from the edge of the field, and returned with
a clump of unbroken stems still sprouting from their original earth. He held the roots in one hand and
smashed the other against the stems, bending them at a right angle to their original position. Clods of dirt
flew from his hand in reaction to the force of his blow.
But the stems did not break.
"Triticum aestivum at this stage of growth is exceedingly tough," Holmes said. "Exceedingly difficult