"Mack Reynolds - After Utopia" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

sane self. As purposefully as during the previous evening,
he dressed, went down for his breakfast, and then out
onto the street. He walked down the hill to the foot of the
medina area, and then he went out through the old
Tannery Gate and took a Chico Cab to the Moses
Pariente bank. At the bank he withdrew all the money
his account contained, more than eight thousand dollars.
He took it in large bills and then set about other
business.
He made reservations to fly over to Gibraltar. He
sought out a real estate agent with whom he had never
come in contact before, and, using his Australian name,
started the preliminary steps toward buying a fairly
large piece of land in the vicinity of Cape Spartel, out
near the Grottos of Hercules.
His astral self stood back aghast. This was
organization money. The movement raised its funds the
hard way. There were few of even moderate means
among the members. This money was the dollar bills, the
fifty-cent pieces, the hundred-peseta notes, the five
escudas, the twenty dinars, the ten piastersтАФbills and
coins of dedicated believers in the movement all over the
world. It was in his safekeeping to be used, here, there,
wherever an emergency or an opportunity arose.
The buying of the land was only the beginning. His
expenditures went on in shocking disregard of reason. He
entered an electrical supply house and ordered equipment
that he had never heard of; it was not available in
Tangier, had to be brought down from Switzerland and
Germany. He asked that it be flown!
Days went by. He had no idea what was motivating
him, unless it was sheer insanity of a type heтАЩd never
heard of. HeтАФhis real selfтАФhad no control whatsoever
over his actions. Nor any understanding of them.
He went to Gibraltar and secured the money he had on
deposit there. Once again it was money that belonged to
the movement.
He made arrangements with a local craftsman to build
to peculiar specifications an airtight metal box some
seven feet in length and resembling a coffin.
He made arrangements with a contractor to have a
sturdy monument built on the piece of land heтАЩd
purchased near the Grottos.
He bought delicate tools, some of which had to be flown
in from New York.
He had no idea of the passage of time. Weeks must
have elapsed before he spotted Whiteley. Dan Whiteley,
one of the movementтАЩs trouble-shooters, and Tracy
CogswellтАЩs oldest and best friend. They had been
co-workers. Even in his peculiar mental condition, Tracy