"Stanley G. Weinbaum - The Adaptive Ultimate" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weinbaum Stanley G)

insect. And which is that?"

"Ants?" suggested Dr. Bach. "Bees? Termites?"
"Bah! They're the most highly evolved, not the most adaptable. No; there's one insect that is known to
produce a higher percentage of mutants than any other, more freaks, more biological sports. The one
Morgan used in his experiments on the effect of hard X-rays on heredityтАФthe fruit fly, the ordinary fruit
fly. Remember? They have reddish eyes, but under X-rays they produced white-eyed offspringтАФand
that was a true mutation, because the white eyes bred true! Acquired characteristics can't be inherited,
but these were. ThereforeтАФ"

"I know," interrupted Dr. Bach.

Scott caught his breath. "So I used fruit flies," he resumed. "I putrefied their bodies, injected a cow, and
got a serum at last, after weeks of clarifying with albumen, evaporating in vacuo, rectifying withтАФ But
you're not interested in the technique. I got a serum. I tried it on tubercular guinea pigs, and"тАФhe paused
dramaticallyтАФ"it cured! They adapted themselves to the tubercle bacillus. I tried it on a rabid dog. He
adapted. I tried it on a cat with a broken spine. That knit. And now, I'm asking you for the chance to try
it on a human being!"

Dr. Bach frowned. "You're not ready," he grunted. "You're not ready by two years. Try it on an
anthropoid. Then try it on yourself. I can't risk a human life in an experiment that's as raw as this."

"Yes, but I haven't got anything that needs curing, and as for an anthropoid, you get the board to allow
funds to buy an apeтАФif you can. I've tried."

"Take it up with the Stoneman Foundation, then."

"And have Grand Mercy lose the credit? Listen, Dr. Bach, I'm asking for just one chanceтАФa charity
caseтАФanything."

"Charity cases are human beings." The old man scowled down at his hands. "See here, Dan. I shouldn't
even offer this much, because it's against all medical ethics, but if I find a hopeless caseтАФutterly hopeless,
you understandтАФwhere the patient himself consents, I'll do it. And that's the final word."

Scott groaned. "And try to find a case like that. If the patient's conscious, you think there's hope, and if
he isn't how can he consent? That settles it!"

But it didn't. Less than a week later Scott looked suddenly up at the annunciator in the corner of his tiny
laboratory. "Dr. Scott," it rasped. "Dr. Scott. Dr. Scott. To Dr. Bach's office."

He finished his titration, noted the figures, and hurried out. The old man was pacing the floor nervously as
Scott entered.

"I've got your case, Dan," he muttered. "It's against all ethicsтАФyet I'll be damned if I can see how you
can do this one any harm. But you'd better hurry. Come onтАФisolation ward."

They hurried. In the tiny cubical room Scott stared appalled. "A girl!" he muttered.

She could never have been other than drab and plain, but lying there with the pallor of death already on
her cheeks, she had an appearance of somber sweetness. Yet that was all the charm she could ever have