"Walter M. Miller - The Lost Masters - Volume 01" - читать интересную книгу автора (Miller Walter M)

sketches and diagrams. There were hand-scribbled notes, two large folded papers, and a small book
entitled Memo.
First he examined the jotted notes. They were scrawled by the same hand that had written the note
glued to the lid, and the penmanship was no less abominable. Pound pastrami, said one note, can
kraut, six bagels,тАУbring home for Emma. Another reminded: Remember-pick up Form 1040, Uncle
Revenue. Another was only a column of figures with a circled total from which a second amount was
subtracted and finally a percentage taken, followed by the word damn! Brother Francis checked the
figures; he could find no fault with the abominable penmanтАЩs arithmetic at least, although he could deduce
nothing about what the quantities might represent.
Memo, he handled with special reverence, because its title was suggestive of тАЬMemorabilia.тАЭ
Before opening it, he crossed himself and murmured the Blessing of Texts. But the small book proved a
disappointment. He had expected printed matter, but found only a hand-written list of names, places,
numbers and dates. The dates ranged through the latter part of the fifth decade, and earlier part of the
sixth decade, twentieth century. Again it was affirmed!тАУthe contents of the shelter came from the twilight
period of the Age of Enlightenment. An important discovery indeed.
Of the larger folded papers, one was tightly rolled as well, and it began to fall apart when he tried to
unroll it; he could make out the words RACING FORM, but nothing more. After returning it to the box
for later restorative work, he turned to the second folded document; its creases were so brittle that he
dared inspect only a little of it, by parting the folds slightly and peering between them.
A diagram, it seemed, butтАУa diagram of white lines on dark paper!
Again he felt the thrill of discovery. It was dearly a blueprint!тАУand there was not a single original
blueprint left at the abbey, but only inked facsimiles of several such prints. The originals had faded long
ago from overexposure to light. Never before had Francis seen an original, although he had seen enough
hand-painted reproductions to recognize it as a blueprint, which, while stained and faded, remained
legible after so many centuries because of the total darkness and low humidity in the shelter. He turned
the document overтАУand felt brief fury. What idiot had desecrated the priceless paper? Someone had
sketched absent-minded geometrical figures and childish cartoon faces all over the back. What
thoughtless vandalтАУ
The anger passed after a momentтАЩs reflection. At the time of the deed, blueprints had probably
been as common as weeds, and the owner of the box the probable culprit. He shielded the print from the
sun with his own shadow while trying to unfold it further. In the lower right-hand corner was a printed
rectangle containing, in simple block letters, various titles, dates, тАЬpatent numbers,тАЭ reference numbers,
and names. His eye traveled down the list until it encountered:
тАЬCIRCUIT DESIGN BY: Leibowitz, I. E.тАЭ
He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head until it seemed to rattle. Then he looked again. There
it was, quite plainly:

CIRCUIT DESIGN BY: Leibowitz, I. E.

He flipped the paper over again. Among the geometric figures and childish sketches, dearly
stamped in purple ink, was the form:




The name was written in a clear feminine hand, not in the hasty scrawl of
the other notes. He looked again at the initialed signature of the note in the
lid of the box: I. E. L.тАУand again at тАЬCIRCUIT DESIGN BY . . .тАЭ And the same
initials appeared elsewhere throughout the notes.
There had been argument, all highly conjectural, about whether the