"Theodore Sturgeon - Microcosmic God" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sturgeon Theodore)

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airport owner-had been all his life, and his father before him. Conant exerted
every kind of pressure on the man and found him unshakable. Finally judicious
persuasion led the city officials to dig a sewer right across the middle of the field,
quite efficiently wrecking GradyтАЩs business. Knowing that this would supply
Grady, who was a wealthy man, with motive for revenge, Conant took over
GradyтАЩs bank at half again its value and caused it to fold up. Grady lost every cent
he had and ended his life in an asylum. Conant was very proud of his tactics.
Like many another who had had Mammon by the tail, Conant did not know when
to let go. His vast organiza-tion yielded him more money and power than any
other concern in history, and yet he was not satisfied. Conant and money were like
Kidder and knowledge. ConantтАЩs pyramided enterprises were to him what the
Neoterics were to Kidder. Each had made his private world, each used it for his
instruction and profit. Kidder, though, dis-turbed nobody but his Neoterics. Even
so, Conant was not wholly villainous. He was a shrewd man, and had discovered
early the value of pleasing people. No man can rob successfully over a period of
years without pleasing the people he robs. The technique for doing this is highly
involved, but master it and you can start your own mint.
ConantтАЩs one great fear was that Kidder would some day take an interest in world
events and begin to become opinionated. Good heavens-the potential power he
had! A little matter like swinging an election could be managed by a man like
Kidder as easily as turning over in bed.
The only thing he could do was to call him periodically and see if there was
anything that Kidder needed to keep himself busy. Kidder appreciated this.
Conant, once in a while, would suggest something to Kidder that intrigued him,
something that would keep him deep in his hermit-age for a few weeks. The light
pump was one of the re-sults of ConantтАЩs imagination. Conant bet him it couldnтАЩt
be done. Kidder did it.
One afternoon Kidder answered the squeal of the radiophoneтАЩs signal. Swearing-
mildly, he shut off the film he was watching and crossed the compound to the old
laboratory. He went to the radiophone, threw a switch. The squealing stopped.
тАЬWell?тАЭ
тАЬHello,тАЭ said Conant. тАЬBusy?тАЭ
тАЬNot very,тАЭ said Kidder. He was delighted with the pictures his camera had
caught, showing the skillful work of a gang of Neoterics synthesizing rubber out

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of pure sulphur. He would rather have liked to tell Conant about it, but somehow
he had never got around to telling Conant about the Neoterics, and he didnтАЩt see
why he should start now.
Conant said, тАЬEr . . . Kidder, I was down at the club the other day and a bunch of
us were filling up an evening with loose talk. Something came up which might
interest you.тАЭ
тАЬWhat?тАЭ