"C. L. Moore - Greater Than Gods" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moore C. L)

higher in him. It was himself looking out of this cube through Sallie's brown
eyes-himself exultant in achievement for the simple sake of achieving. She had
called him father. Was this a father's love, selfless, unfathomable, for a
lovely and beloved daughter?
"Don't wonder any more," laughed the voice in his ears. "Look- here's the past
that lies between us. I want you to understand what parts your world from
mine."
Softly the myrtle glade and the lovely smiling face that blended Sallie and
Bill melted into the depths of a cloud forming inside the three dimensions of
the cube. For a moment-nothing. Then motion was lifting behind the mist,
shouldering the veils aside. Three-dimensional space seemed to open up all
around him- He saw a wedding procession coming down a church aisle toward
him, Sallie smiling mistily through a cloud of silver tulle. And he knew at
the sight of her that though it was only chance which had chosen her instead
of dark Marta Mayhew, he could come to love Sallie Carlisle Cory with an
intensity almost frightening.
He saw time go by with a swiftness like thought itself, events telescoping
together with no sense of confusion, moving like memories through his mind,
clear, yet condensed into split seconds. He was watching his own future,
seeing a life that revolved around Sallie as the center of existence. He saw
her flashing in and out of his laboratory as he worked, and whenever she
entered, the whole room seemed to light up; whenever she left, he could
scarcely work for the longing to follow.
He saw their first quarrel. Sallie, spinning in a shimmer of bright glass-silk
as soft as gossamer, dimpled at the self which in this waking dream was more
vividly Bill Cory than the Bill who watched. "See, darling, aren't I
heavenly?" And he heard himself answering, "Edible, darling! But isn't that
stuff expensive?"
Sallie's laughter was light. "Only fifteen hundred credits. That's dirt-cheap
for a Skiparelle model."
He gasped. "Why Sallie, that's more than we're allowed for living expenses! I
can't-"
"Oh, daddy'll pay for it if you're going to be stingy. I only wanted-"
"I'll buy my wife's clothes." Bill was grim. "But I can't afford Paris
fashions, darling."
Sallie's pretty underlip pouted alarmingly. Tears sparkled in the soft brown
eyes she lifted to his, and his heart melted almost painfully in one hopeless
rush.
"Don't cry, sweetheart! You can keep it, just this once. But we'll have to
make it up next month. Never again, Sallie, understand?"
Her nod was bright and oblivious as a child's.
But they didn't make it up. Sallie loved partying, and Bill loved Sallie, and
nowadays there was much more hilarity than work going on behind the door in
Biology House marked "Dr. William Vincent Cory." The television's panels were
tuned to orchestras playing strong rhythm now, not to lectures and laboratory
demonstrations as of old.
No man can do two jobs well. The work on sex determination began to strike
snags in the path that had seemed almost clear to success, and Bill had so
little time any more to smooth them out. Always Sallie was in the back of his
mind, sweet, smiling, adorable.