"John Meaney - Sanctification" - читать интересную книгу автора (Meaney John) in the distance beyond the boulevard's end.
"I must go," she said, and left the beggar, now grown silent, to his own ruminations. Long hours of walking over the cool blue crystal road while the sky grew hotter. Hours of slipping through throngs of robed gentlefolk, walking past the giant stone pillars of arms reaching upwards, before she reached the ornate monastery. It was emerald and yellow stone, and, though smaller than neighbouring buildings, it seemed imposing and purposeful to Ashara. She walked around its edge, until she stood before a gleaming green gateway. They must admit her. By this time, her master's household would have missed her. She did not know what punishment she was due: never had she heard of a servant willfully disappearing from her master's employ. So, when she stood before the gate, she was determined. Despite her poor light garments, despite her bare feet and uncombed hair, she stood straight and gazed with clear calm eyes at her future. The gate's automatic system challenged her to state her business. "I am going to be a Saint," she said. Her name was Ashara and she was only twelve years old, but this was the pivotal moment in her life. "Who are you? How old are you?" "I am Zenshara, and I am as old as the cosmos." So she renamed herself, and gave the answer which had been drawn out of her without volition. It sounded foolish and pompous to her, but it was apposite - or the system found it amusing, or intriguing - for the gateway portal and became Zenshara forever. The procedure was the reverse of what she would have expected, had Zenshara considered the matter at all. She was kept alone in neophytes' quarters, at the other end of the building from the established students. She would only graduate to the children's dormitories if she proved her aptitude for this way of life. She spent long hours alone, solving word puzzles and geometric holo-problems in her small room. Sometimes a small, calm old man would enter silently and watch Zenshara as she worked. After the first few times, when he had gestured for her to continue as she turned to him, she had taken to ignoring him. Or rather, though she made no attempt to communicate directly, she deliberately relaxed and ran through the exercises more quickly than ever in his presence. After five days they began to teach her the ancient disciplines. The testing was not over: they needed to see just how quickly she could absorb the thinking and make it part of her own. Quantum theory was taught in the simplest fashion, for the rigorous mathematics would come later. She had human tutors, who made no personal contact and discussed only the academic matter at hand. She spent hours interacting with her terminal. Occasionally, the old man silently observed. He was not present on the twentieth day, when Zenshara worked her way successfully through a series of wave-function problems, drawing holos in the air with her fingertip-cursor. Afterwards, the terminal demonstrated |
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