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

"Ain't what? I mean, isn't? I mean, what are you talking about?"
"What makes you think you're human?" Blok's face was a portrait of puzzlement and increasing pique. "What do you
think you are, a prophet? Are you trying to say something profound?"
Sheen laughed in good humor. "I like you, Doc, I really do. Do you want me to show you your primeval pappy?"
Alarm flared in Blok's eyes. He backed away and crouched low with the claw on his metal hands menacing. "Don't
show me anything."
"Calm down. I won't do a thing without your permis-sion. Come here and I'll tell you about your fourth
great-granddaddy who's buried in Chin." "Chin!" "I can see him in my mind right now; tall and fearless, a
giant of a fellow in intellect and body. No wonder you're the man you are."
Blok came closer. "Really?"
"He was a bit of a hell-raiser, though; spent a few nights in jail."
The Professor grinned.
"Womanizer, too."
The Professor blushed.
"As a matter of fact, your ancestress wasn't his wife."
Blok blanched in horror.
Sheen grinned. "Practically everyone in Osfar is descend-ed from a whore. What kind of women do you think those
trailblazers fraternized with? What kind do you think came out here on the Chaos Queen?"
Blok's eyes were stark.
Sheen showed him a picture. "See there. That's your grandpappy who's buried in Chin."
The disgust in Blok's expression changed to admiration. "He was big."
Sheen showed a second picture. "And there is his fa-ther."
"Oh, he's so small."
"Not everyone can be a giant. The height came from the females in that case. And here is his father."
Blok stood enthralled as Sheen revealed to him the faces and figures of his ancestors, one by one. They flashed
through his head like a motion picture. At times he laughed aloud or groaned at the ridiculous poses or modes of
dress.
Then, subtly, the facial expressions of the strangers be-gan to change. Or was it the features themselves that were
altering?
"They're getting uglier," he whispered.
"You haven't seen anything yet." Sheen continued to show pictures, and it wasn't long before Blok was on his knees
with his paws over his face.
"No more," he begged.
"Heck, they're still wearing clothes. I thought you were an intellectual. I'm showing you the ascendancy backward, and
you're moaning."
Another picture flashed in Blok's head. There were two
figures in this one. He cried out, "What's that? Oh, my God, what is that?"
"It's a man drawing a bead on your grandpappy. Obvi-ously, he missed."
"A man?" Blok gasped. "It looks like a God. It is a God! And that other thing! That isn't my ancestor!"
"I'm afraid it is. But don't give up now. The best is yet to come. To the devil with all these in-betweens, I'm going to
show you a specimen of your primeval, primeval ancestors. Ready?"
The picture appeared, and a moment later Blok crumpled to the ground. He lay on his back, staring at the sky, and
when Sheen bent over him he saw the surrender in the eyes.
Poor Blok couldn't take too much knowledge. Almost hungrily he reached for his savior. "Blank it out," he pleaded.
"Take it from my mind. Take me and make me omniscient but never show me that picture again. It makes me want to
vomit. I could never hold up my head again."
Sheen took him from the feet upward. "What does it matter if you descended from a rat? Nobody ever began from
himself, except me."
"It matters," said Blok, tranquil now and ready for his destiny. "The mind is no good once it rejects itself as I've done.
It was an instinctive reaction, but I went too far. I can't go back. I don't want to go back. I want peace and