"Michael Sweeney - To Swim the Stream to Die" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sweeney Michael)

To Swim the Stream to DieTo Swim the Stream to Die by Michael Sweeney
Professor Andrew Stevens sat on his stool and stared at the papers in front of
him. The papers were spread across a wide wooden board. The wooden board was
in turn sitting on the bathroom sink.
The papers were, in fact, newspaper clippings. Several were large headlines.
One read: Scientist Invents Time Travel! Another read: Famed Prof Goes to
Court! And still another read: Inventor Dissappears After Legal Loss.
As Stevens stared at the papers his face contorted with hate. Suddenly he
jumped up, causing the stool to clatter to the floor. Violently he swept his
arm across the make shift table. The paper clippings flew up and fluttered
around the bathroom. One landed in the toilet. As the paper became saturated
it slowly sank. Stevens leaned over, reaching for the flush lever. The
headline caught his eye.
Scientist Awarded Presidents Achievment!
Anger swelled up inside. He jabbed the lever viscously. The clipping swirled
around several times and whipped down the drain.
How fitting, he mused to himself, I couldn't have put it better myself.
Slowly a dull sensation swept over his body. A pain replaced the anger. He
kneeled down and began picking up the commentary on his lifes great
accomplishment.
As he picked up the papers, an old thought returned to him.
I did it before! I can do it again! He thought, I'll show those bastards who
their dealing with! They may have taken one of my ideas, but hell I still have
others.
He stopped picking up the papers and stood. He put the papers he held down on
the makeshift table. He turned and opened the bathroom door.
The door opened to the other room of the small apartment. There was a
hide-a-way bed that swung up and away against the wall. There was a single
chair and a set of boxes in one corner. Aside from an unshaded lamp that sat
in the other corner the room was bare. A single window, facing a brick wall,
allowed light into the room.
The bare wood floor creaked as he stalked across it. Stevens came up to the
chair and sat down. He was careful not to sit to hard. It was quite a task
with the weight of his heart.
He turned the chair slightly and pulled the box closer to him. He pulled the
box's flaps open and peer cautiously inside. Gingerly he put his hand in the
box. He treatedit like a set bear trap. Slowly he pulled out an item. It was a
twine wrapped folder.
It was covered heavily with dust. Stevens blew on the folder and a cloud of
dust exploded up and out. He coughed lightly and unwrapped the folder. The
twine came undone with some extra effort. the knots had been made in an
angered haste. The twine slid away allowing access to the yellowed folder.
Stevens opened the folder and felt a lump form in his throat.
These were the original hand drawn prototypes for that god awful Time
Generator, as it now was called. The headlines had it all wrong. It was not
time travel. More of travel by time. An engine, powered not by gasoline or
hydrogen, but by contolled time. After all, they said time was fluid. And it
was always moving. Why not harness the movement to create power.
It had been a brilliant idea. It had once gotten him so excited and kept him
up all night. So many sleepless nights and energized days. Papers, more