"Watson-TheAmberRoom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watson Ian)

stupidity."

Absolutely the room must be out in the open, three-dimensionally, beneath the
sky, not packed flat in cases in some cavern! The parquet floor, the great wall
panels, the allegorical ceiling dangling its chandeliers: all must be erected
and connected, and suffusing and refracting golden light. How else could it
conform to my dream? How else could Amber herself be waiting in the room?

"Sheer stupidity."

My interview was at an end.

I went with Pavel to a shop specializing in amber jewelry on Leninsky prospekt,
and then to another on prospekt Mira. Despite our proximity to Yantarny -- to
Amberville-by-the-sea -- there was a dearth of decent merchandise on display.
The proprietor of the first shop became brusque when he grasped that I wasn't
interested in buying anything but only in wasting his time with fanciful
questions. The manager of the second was eager that I should include the exact
address of his premises in my prospective best-seller -- which in his opinion
ought to be about an attempt to refloat the torpedoed ship, in the style of
Raise the Titanic, and featuring neo-Nazi conspirators. He urged me to visit the
Bunker Museum near the university. That bunker was the command post of Hitler's
Reich till the Red Army overran the devastated city. Part of it had been left
completely untouched since the day the surrender was signed in it. Such ghosts,
Herr Burn, such echoes of the past. Perfect atmosphere for a best-seller.

I wouldn't visit the damned bunker. But Yantarny, yes -- I would go there on the
very next day. At the source of amber I might find some better pointer. Back in
the ear again, in our cocoon. amidst the pollution, Pavel explained that visits
to Yantarny were a slightly sensitive matter.

"You see, foreigners can only buy a train ticket to Yantarny if they have a
special document. . ."

My heart sank. "Is it a military zone?"

No, it wasn't. Just along the coast at Baltiysk, was a huge naval base. Baltiysk
was a restricted area -- though nowadays sightseeing visits could even be
arranged. For commercial reasons Yantarny was somewhat out of bounds to
independent travelers.

"Somewhat out of bounds," stressed Pavel. "I could drive you there, but it might
be wiser to join a group tour."

He would arrange this. He would accompany me. Even so, at Yantarny I wouldn't be
able to visit the workings or the beach. Those were fully out of bounds. I would
only be able to gawp at pipelines through which the quarried earth and amber
were pumped across the town to be separated, and the amber cleaned.

Damnation. Still, did I really need to inspect those workings, like some