"Alexander Abramov, Sergei Abramov. Journey Across Three Worlds (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

the paper spoiled my writing. I don't write like that now."
I rewrote the lines in the notebook. They differed greatly from the
first.
"Ri-ight," drawled Galya. "No need for a handwriting expert. But
perhaps the handwriting changes when you're in a somnambulistic state."
"I wouldn't know," said Olga. "Somnambulism's in the field of
psychiatry. It's a sort of psychic upset that comes like lightning. I can't
explain it any other way. And I don't like all this, not at all."
"Nor do I," Galya conceded.
She read and reread both memorandums in the notebook. Her face
reflected not only concentrated thinking but repressed anxiety. Galya's
clear, logical mind did not want to give in to the inexplicable.
"I simply can't explain it. Either scientifically or logically, from
the standpoint of common sense, so to say. A person of absolutely sound mind
- and suddenly he turns sleepwalker. Of course, a fainting fit is
understandable: a doctor could find an explanation. But this raving about a
plurality of worlds - that's more like something out of a science-fiction
story. And then his asking for a night's lodging, for a roof over his head,
when the man has his own private flat."
"Apparently my Hyde was looking for shelter," I laughed. "He couldn't
go to a hotel, d'you see."
"Here's what I don't like. The hypothesis about Hyde explains it all.
But I prefer dealing with pure science, rather than science fiction. Though
everything about it is fantastic. Now why, Sergei, did you ask to go to
Lena's? You didn't know she lives with me."
"That's new to me, even now. I've not seen Lena for ten years. I can't
even imagine what she looks like."
My adventure in Galya's story surprised me more than anything else.
Lena and I never met, never corresponded. We'd probably even forgotten each
other's existence.
"Is she an old flame?" asked Olga.
"All of us went to school together before the war," replied Galya. "We
were all going to enter the medical faculty. But nothing came of it: Sergei
and Oleg went to the front, and I got a yen for physics. Only Lena went in
for medicine. By the way, she really was in love with you, Sergei."
"With Oleg," I said.
"All the girls ran after him," sighed Galya. "But I had the worst fate:
I won and lost." She stood up. "Peace be to thy house, but it's high time I
left. The council of detectives is closed and Sherlock Holmes proposes to
make an excursion into the realm of physics."
"Psychology, you mean to say."
"No, I mean physics. I'm interested in Zargaryan and Nikodimov, and
what they're doing in the Institute of New Problems in Physics."
"Whatever for?" asked Olga in surprise. "I should apply to a
psychiatrist."
"And I would choose Zargaryan. Who is he? What is he engaged in? Is he
connected with Nikodimov? And if he is, then in what field?" Galya turned to
me: "Did you ever hear of either name?"
"Never."
"Maybe you read about them somewhere and have merely forgotten?"