"Robert Weinberg - Logical Magician 01 - A Logical Magician" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weinberg Robert)

only a few classes in session and they had the path to themselves.
Not more than a hundred feet from the Center, Simon came to an abrupt halt.
Turning, the Brit put both his hands on Jack's shoulders and stared intently into his eyes.
After a second, the student pursed his lips in a low whistle of astonishment.
"Rose-colored contact lenses," he said. "I heard rumors that such things existed,
but I never expected to encounter anyone actually wearing them. Especially not my
mathematics professor."
"Tell me about it," said Jack, sighing. "Then you don't deny you're a supernatural
being, some sort of magical creature?"
"Creature?" replied Simon, grinning. "I may not be human, Professor Collins, but I
do have feelings. Simon Goodfellow, of the kingdom of Faerie, at your service, my
esteemed teacher."
"Call me Jack," said Jack. "I don't mind the 'professor' bit from students seven or
eight years younger than I am. But, from a being who has been around for a couple of
hundred years, it sounds kinda pretentious."
"Seven hundred and twelve years, to be exact," said Simon. "But then, who's
counting?"
They resumed walking down the path, conversing in low tones, appearing to be
nothing more than a student and his teacher discussing classwork. Simon seemed quite
nonchalant about the whole affair.
"If you told anybody about this," he declared, "they'd think you'd gone daft."
"I've devoured too many fantasy novels to even consider that possibility," said
Jack. "Nobody believes the hero, and it leads to all sorts of dreadful complications. The
last thing I need at present is more complications.
"For the record, though, what kind of magical being are you? I don't remember
reading any specifics on supernatural exchange students."
Simon laughed. "That's because you're thinking too much of our traditional roles,
Professor. Oops, sorryтАФJack. We faeries have changed with the times. Like all the rest
of the supernatural beings that still inhabit this wonderful world. I'm a changeling."
"Merlin did say..." began Jack.
"Merlin?" interrupted Simon. "You mean to say that Merlin the Magician is in
America?"
"That's who gave me the contact lenses," said Jack. "I gather he's been living in
Chicago for quite some time." Casually, Jack added, "Along with his daughter, Megan."
"Daughter?" said Simon. "I never recalled stories about Merlin having a daughter.
There was Morgana, of course, but I thought she was his sister."
The Brit shrugged. "That's the trouble with living so long. Fact and fancy get mixed
up, and after a while you don't know what's true and what's not. Merlin's in Chicago,
though? I'll have to look him up. We share a bunch of memories that go way back. Way,
way back."
"That might not be so easy," said Jack. "But before I describe that mess, explain to
me this changeling stuff."
"If you insist," said Simon. "A lot of it Merlin explained to me. I don't know how
much the old boy told you, but his theories covering our creation are pretty much
accepted fare among the supernatural kingdom. So pardon me if I summarize and
condense things somewhat.
"You humans are always trying to cover up your own faults by blaming somebody
else. These days, it's society or peer pressure or a hundred other excuses. Nobody likes
to admit maybe they're the ones responsible for the problems of the world.
"Well, not surprisingly, things weren't that different seven, eight hundred years ago.