"Jack Williamson - Afterlife" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williamson Jack)

He shook his head in a puzzled way.

My mother asked if he was hungry. He nodded, and rose unsteadily when she asked if he
could. She took his hand and led him out of the church and down the street to our house.
He limped slowly beside her, peering around him as if everything was strange.

"Sir?" The doctor came up beside him. "Can you tell us who you are?"

He made a strange animal grunt and shook his head again.

At our house, my mother brought him a glass and a pitcher of apple juice. He gulped it
thirstily and sat watching her fix breakfast. My father brought clothing for him, and a pair of
shoes. He sat frowning at them and finally stood up to dress himself, slow and clumsy
about it, and let me tie the shoes.

"Sir?" The doctor stood watching. "Where are you from?"

"Earth." He spoke at last, his voice deep and slow. "I am here from Mother Earth."

My mother set a plate for him. He studied the knife and fork as if they were new to him, but
plied them ravenously when she brought a platter of ham and scrambled eggs. She had
set plates for the doctor and my father, but they forgot to eat.

"You were dead." My father was hoarse with awe. "How can you live again?"

"I was never dead." He reached to stab another slice of ham. "I am eternal."

"Eternal?" The doctor blinked and squinted at him. "Do you mean immortal?"

"I --" He paused as if he had to search for words. "I do not die."

"I saw you dead." The doctor swallowed hard and watched him slice the ham. "What
brought you back?"

"The power." Smiling as though glad to find what to say, he wiped his lips with a slice of
white bread. "The immortal power that moves the mortal body."

"I see," the doctor muttered, as if he really did. "Why are you here?"

"If immortality interests you, that is what I bring."

The doctor blinked, startled into silence. My father muttered something under his breath
and moved to a chair across the room. My mother had made a pot of tea. The man drained
a tall glass of it, sweetened with honey. Seeming to grow stronger and brighter, he began
asking questions. He wanted to know about our history, cities, industries, governments,
ways of travel. Did ships from Earth ever land here? I thought he looked pleased that the
mail skipper was not due soon. Our neighbors had crowded the kitchen by then, and we all
moved into the front room. Somebody asked his name.