"Michael Swanwick - Legions in Time" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swanwick Michael)

file:///C|/3226%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E-books/Michael%20Swanwick%20-%20Legions%20in%20Time.txt

Legions In Time by Michael Swanwick




Eleanor Voigt had the oddest job of anyone she knew. She worked eight hours a day in an office
where no business was done. Her job was to sit at a desk and stare at the closet door. There was a
button on the desk that she was to push if anybody came out that door. There was a big clock on
the wall, and, precisely at noon, once a day, she went over to the door and unlocked it with a key
she had been given. Inside was an empty closet. There were no trap doors or secret panels in
itтАУshe had looked. It was just an empty closet.

If she noticed anything unusual, she was supposed to go back to her desk and press the button.

"Unusual in what way?" sheтАЩd asked when sheтАЩd been hired. "I donтАЩt understand. What am I looking
for?"

"YouтАЩll know it when you see it," Mr. Tarblecko had said in that odd accent of his. Mr. Tarblecko
was her employer, and some kind of foreigner. He was the creepiest thing imaginable. He had pasty
white skin and no hair at all on his head, so that when he took his hat off, he looked like some
species of mushroom. His ears were small and almost pointed. Ellie thought he might have some kind
of disease. But he paid two dollars an hour, which was good money nowadays for a woman of her age.

At the end of her shift, she was relieved by an unkempt young man who had once blurted out to her
that he was a poet. When she came in, in the morning, a heavy Negress would stand up wordlessly,
take her coat and hat from the rack, and, with enormous dignity, leave.

So all day Ellie sat behind the desk with nothing to do. She wasnтАЩt allowed to read a book, for
fear she might get so involved in it that she would stop watching the door. Crosswords were
allowed, because they werenтАЩt as engrossing. She got a lot of knitting done, and was considering
taking up tatting.

Over time, the door began to loom large in her imagination. She pictured herself unlocking it at
some forbidden not-noon time and seeingтАУwhat? Her imagination failed her. No matter how vividly
she visualized it, the door would open onto something mundane. Brooms and mops. Sports equipment.
Galoshes and old clothes. What else would there be in a closet? What else could there be?

Sometimes, caught up in her imaginings, she would find herself on her feet. Sometimes, she walked
to the door. Once, she actually put her hand on the knob before drawing away. But always the
thought of losing her job stopped her.

It was maddening.

Twice, Mr. Tarblecko had come to the office while she was on duty. Each time, he was wearing that
same black suit with that same narrow black tie. "You have a watch?" heтАЩd asked.

"Yes, sir." The first time, sheтАЩd held forth her wrist to show it to him. The disdainful way he
ignored the gesture ensured she did not repeat it on his second visit.