"H. Beam Piper - The Edge of the Knife" - читать интересную книгу автора (Piper H Beam)

"Well, look! Look at that!"

She thrust the paper into his hands, still folded, the big, black headline where he could see it.

KHALID IB'N HUSSEIN ASSASSINATED

He glanced over the leading paragraphs. Leader of Islamic Caliphate shot to death in Basra ... leaving
Parliament Building for his palace outside the city ... fanatic, identified as an Egyptian named Mohammed
Noureed ... old American submachine-gun ... two guards killed and a third seriously wounded ... seized
by infuriated mob and stoned to death on the spot....

For a moment, he felt guilt, until he realized that nothing he could have done could have altered the event.
The death of Khalid ib'n Hussein, and all the millions of other deaths that would follow it, were fixed in
the matrix of the space-time continuum. Including, maybe, the death of an obscure professor of Modern
History named Edward Chalmers.

"At least, this'll be the end of that silly flap about what happened a month ago in Modern Four. This is
modern history, now; I can talk about it without a lot of fools yelling their heads off."

She was staring at him wide-eyed. No doubt horrified at his cold-blooded attitude toward what was
really a shocking and senseless crime.

"Yes, of course; the man's dead. So's Julius Caesar, but we've gotten over being shocked at his murder."

He would have to talk about it in Modern History IV, he supposed; explain why Khalid's death was
necessary to the policies of the Eastern Axis, and what the consequences would be. How it would hasten
the complete dissolution of the old U. N., already weakened by the crisis over the Eastern demands for
the demilitarization and internationalization of the United Stales Lunar Base, and necessitate the formation
of the Terran Federation, and how it would lead, eventually, to the Thirty Days' War. No, he couldn't
talk about that; that was on the wrong side of the knife-edge. Have to be careful about the knife-edge;
too easy to cut himself on it.




Nobody in Modern History IV was seated when he entered the room; they were all crowded between
the door and his desk. He stood blinking, wondering why they were giving him an ovation, and why
Kendrick and Dacre were so abjectly apologetic. Great heavens, did it take the murder of the greatest
Moslem since Saladin to convince people that he wasn't crazy?

Before the period was over, Whitburn's secretary entered with a note in the college president's hand and
over his signature; requesting Chalmers to come to his office immediately and without delay. Just like that;
expected him to walk right out of his class. He was protesting as he entered the president's office.
Whitburn cut him off short.

"Doctor Chalmers,"тАФWhitburn had risen behind his desk as the door openedтАФ"I certainly hope that
you can realize that there was nothing but the most purely coincidental connection between the event
featured in this morning's newspapers and your performance, a month ago, in Modern History Four," he
began.