"Doris Piserchia - A Billion Days of Earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Piserchia Doris)

Sheen shrugged. "We'll see. But first, pray tell, you're an inferior type of your species, are you not?"
Blok's eyebrows rose. "As a matter of fact, I'm not an inferior man. My health is only fair, but I'm above average in
intelligence and I hold an important position in my soci-ety."
"Oh, hell, I have such rotten luck these days."
"What seems to be the trouble?"
"I can't do my thing."
"What is your thing?"
"It's difficult to explain."
His expression slightly impatient, Blok picked up the ax and attacked the volcanic wall.
"I've an uncanny nature," said Sheen. "I can't come into physical contact with a thing unless it grants me permission.
You can see that this would be a lonely position for one to be in. I'm a very gregarious person, must have a pal or I go
mad."
Blok was beginning to perspire. The rock was hard, barely yielding to the sharp blade. "I'll be your pal," he said, over
his shoulder.
"What a wonderful thing for you to say. Just for that I'll do something wonderful in return." Sheen showed the
Professor a picture of perfection.
Blok dropped the ax. "Good Lord!" he yelped.
"Ecstatic, eh?"
"How did you do that? How did you put that picture in my mind?"
"Does it matter?" said Sheen.
"Are you a telepath?"
"I haven't the slightest idea of what goes on in your mind. But I'm wasting my time here. I don't want to fool around
with a superior person. What I need is a dumb one, somebody who can't discern a guileful remark. I'm afraid you would
be too quick for me."
Said Blok, "See here, what are you up to? What are you going to do if you find yourself a dumb man?"
"Invite him to live in that world you see in your mind."
"Is that all?"
"That's really and truly all."
Blok thought it over. "It's such an attractive place, you might not be doing him an injustice. What would he have to
give as payment?"
"His ego. That part of him won't fit in paradise. Botches up the works."
"Uncanny. What do you do with his ego?"
"Preserve it."
"Hmm," said Blok.
Sheen snorted grumpily. "Give me my picture. I must be off in search of someone who needs blessed peace."
"I sort of hate to part with it."
"Hand it over. You won't do. You have too developed a brain to tolerate true pleasure."
Blok looked displeased. "The best things in life are appreciated most by the most intelligent."
"Pshaw."
"The more awareness there is, the more there is to be aware of."
Sheen grew a hand on his tare-forearm and scratched his head. "I don't think so. I think you may be in error."
Laughing, Blok said, "For a second there you sounded like old Trop, a colleague of mine."
"Trop? Oh, yes, I know the man. Very sound fellow."
This time it was the Professor's turn to doubt. "How can you know him? You didn't even know I was a man."
"Who said that? I never said that."
"You did."
Again Sheen scratched his head. "Somebody around here is mixed up. But you may take my word for it, Trop is an old
acquaintance of mine, and it is my humble opinion that he's a stout fellow."
Blok glared. "He's a buffoon and you know it. He has the gall to attempt a dissertation on the Effu. I mean, how silly
can you get? No one knows a thing about it but me."