"Robert Reed - Due" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reed Robert)first...where is she....?She's not in the middle of the lovers, which is
unlike her.Hearing a stranger's voice, I walk up the polished aisle, coming across a secondgroup of people doing something unexpected.They are sitting quietly, listening as the stranger speaks calmly, describingthe true shape of the world."We live on a great sphere," he says. "What seems perfectly flat to little usactually falls away in every direction, equally and always. Without end."I know that voice but not the handsome face.Due."Pick a line," says the newborn, "then walk it. Provided you stay true to thatline and live long enough, you will walk around the world. But of course thattrip takes trillions of shifts. By the time you return home, this facility willbe gone, its atoms scattered over that enormous world, and not so much as singlememory of us will persist."His audience murmurs quietly.Mollene sits in front, eager to absorb the lesson."And our round world is part of another, still larger world," the newborncontinues. "A trillion trillion times larger and several times older. Andinfinitely stranger. That world is a ball, too, but in its own peculiarfashion."I find myself listening. The voice compels me to do nothing but."Think of a black cold emptiness," says Due. "That larger world is carved fromthat blackness, and within it are an uncountable sprinkling of little worldslike ours."Mollene leans closer to him, begging to be noticed.Due grins at his largest admirer, then asks, "What's the shape of an atom?""It's round, too!" Mollene exclaims.Not exactly, I remind myself. The furious wanderings of electrons can make around shell, but it's too easy to call them balls.Yet Due agrees with Mollene. His new eyes are bright and gray, his smile nearlyguileless. "What if I tell you that Creation -- all there is and all there canbe -- is always built from spheres? Round atoms become round worlds, universesthat make up Creation .... "I work hard to say nothing, to let this useless noise vanish on its own.But Tannie, standing at the back of the audience, asks the obvious: "How do youknow these things?"Due expects the question. He welcomes it. Nodding, he waits for a moment as ifin reflection, then confesses, "I don't know how I know. I was born thinkingthese things, the same as I was born with these simple hands."What could I say to that?Keeping silent, I try to look unimpressed. There's no easy way to wrestleMollene away from her new love. Instead, I slip behind the others, approachingTannie and whispering, "A moment? I need to talk to you."She seems glad for the distraction."Have you ever heard such talk?" I ask the old woman.I expect her to say, "No," but instead she tells me, "When I was a newborn, theold discussed strange things.""Like worlds within worlds?""Sometimes. Yes."The audience is asking questions. How big is the world in standards? And exactlyhow much bigger is the blackness beyond? But the dimensions aren't part of Due'sspecial knowledge, it seems. "You and I can't comprehend these distances," hewarns. "We're too tiny. Too limited by a long ways."Too stupid, he means.In a careful murmur, I ask Tannie what I meant to ask her partner. "Did thatnewborn come close to you? While you were working, I mean. Did he ever, even fora moment, touch the oven?"She looks at me, a worn hand wiping at her patched forehead."Mollene must have flirted with him," I add. "I've seen the symptoms.""I never saw him near the oven," she assures me. "He was returning to thewarehouse for supplies, and he paused for a moment, just to see what new bonelooks like.""And to flirt?"She shakes her head. "I know what you want, but I can't give it to you."I'm not sure what I want, yet I feel |
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