"Callahan 02 - Time Travellers Strictly Cash 1.1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robinson Spider)

"How do you explain it, John?"
"I don't."
"What do you think of Bharadwaj's idea?"
"Religious bullshit. Or is that redundant? Superstition."
"When you have eliminated theimpossible. . .' "she began to quote.
"-there's nothing left," he finished.
"If you cannot think of a way to prove or disprove a proposition, does that make it false?"
"Damn it, Reb! Do you mean to tell me you're agreeing with that hysterical Hindu? Maybe he can't help his heritage, but you?"
"Bharadwaj is right."
"Jesus Christ, Rebecca," he thundered, "is this what love can do to a fine mind?"
She overmatched his volume. 'I'll thank you to respect that mind."
"Why should I?" he said bitterly.
"Because it's done something no one ever did in all history. I said you cannot think of a way to prove or disprove Bharadwaj 's belief. No one ever has. "Her eyes flashed. "I can. I did."
He gaped at her. Either she had completely lost her mind or she was telling the truth. They seemed equally impossible.
At last he made his choice. "How?"
"Right here at this desk. Its brain was more than adequate, once mine told it what to do. I'm astonished it never occurred to anyone before."
"You proved the doctrine of reincarnation. With your desk."
"With the computers it has access to. That's right."
He found a chair and sat down. Her hand moved; and the chair's arm emitted a drink. He gulped it gratefully.
"It was so simple, John. I picked an aibitrary date twenty-five years ago, picked an aibitrary hour and minute. That's as close as I could refine it death records are seldom kept to the second. But it was close enough. I got the desk to-"
"-collect all the people who died or were born at that minute," he cried, slopping his drink. "Oh my God, of course!"
"I told you. Oh, there were holes all over. Not all deaths are recorded, not by a damn sight, and not all of the recorded ones are nailed dOwn to the minute, even today. The same with birth records, of course. And the worst of it was that picking a date that far back meant that a substantial number of the deaders were born before brain-scan, giving me incomplete data."
"But you had to go that far back," he said excitedly, "to get live ones with jelled personalities to compare."
"Right," she said, and smiled approvingly.
"But with all those holes in the data-"
"John, there are fifteen billion people in the solar system. That's one hell of a statistical universe. The desk gave me a tentative answer. Yes. I ran it fifteen more times, for fifteen more dates. I picked one two years ago, trading off the relative ambiguity of immature brain-scans for more complete records. I got fifteen tentative yeses. Then I correlated ail fifteen and got a definite yes."
"But-god damn it all to hell, Reb, the fucking birthrate has been rising since forever! Where the hell do the new ones come from?"
She frowned. "I'm not certain. But I note that the animal birthrate declines as the human increases."
His mouth hung open.
"Do you see, John? You're a religious fanatic too. The only-difference between you and Bharadwaj is, he's right. Reincarnation exists."
He finished his drink in a gulp, and milked the chair for more.
"When we froze Archer, he died. His soul went away. He was recycled. When we forced life back into his body, his soul was elsewhere engaged, We got pot luck."
The whiskey was bitting him. "Any idea who?"
"I think so. Hard to be certain, of course, but I believe the, man we revived was a grade three mechanic named Big Leon. He was killed on Luna by a defective lock-seal, at the right instant."
"Good Christ." He got up and began pacing around the room. "Is that why there are so many freak accidents? Every
time you conceive a child you condemn some poor bastard? Of all the grotesque-" He stopped in his tracks, stood utterly motionless for a long moment, and whirled on her.
"Where is Archer now?"
Her face might have been sculpted in ice. "I've narrowed it down to three possibilities. I can't pin it down any better than that. They're all eleven years old, of course. All male, oddly enough. Apparently we don't change sex often. Thank God."
Dimsdale was breathing heavily. "Rebecca," he began dangerously...
She looked him square in the eyes. "I've had a fully equipped cryotheater built into this house. His body's already refrozen. There are five people in my employ who are competent to set this up so it cannot possibly be traced back to me. There is not one of them I can trust to have that much power over me. You are the only person living I trust that. much, John. And you are not in my employ, which is another plus."
"God damn it-"
"This is the only room in the system that I am certain is not bugged, John. I want three perfectly timed, untraced murders."
"But the bloody cryotechs are witnesses-"
"To what? We freeze and thaw hini again, hoping it will bring him out of it somehow. From the standpoint of conventional medicine it's as good an idea as any. No one listened to Bharadwaj, there is no accepted explanation for Archer's change. And no one but you and I know the real one for certain-evea the desk doesn't remember." She snorted. "Nine more attempted defrostings since Archer, none of 'em worked, and still nobody's guessed. There's a moratorium on defrosting, but it's unofficial. We can do it, John." She stopped, and sat back in herchair, became totally expressionless. "If you'll help me."
He left the room, left the house, and kept going on foot. Four days later he re-emerged from the forest, bristling with beard, his cheeks gaunt, his clothes torn and filthy. Most of his original disguise was gone, but he was quite unrecognizable as John Dimsdale. The security people who had monitored him from a distance conveyed him to her, as they had been ordered~ and reluctantly left him alone with her.
"I'm your man," he said as soon as they had gone. She winced, and was silent for a long time.
"You'll have to kill Bharadwaj too," she said at last.
"I know."

Rebecca Howell gazed again at the defrosted thing that had once been Archer Howell but the torrent of emotions was tamed this time, held in rigid control. It may not work on this shot, she reminded herself. I'm only guessing that his soul will have an affinity for his old body. He may end up ma crib in Bombay this time. She smiled. But sooner or later I'll get him.