Конец вечности
The Hidden Centuries
ThemushroomcloudofanA-bombblast.Anattentiongetter.Whataboutit?"
Harlanexploded."GreatTime,Computer,what’swrongwithyou?Lookatthedateofthemagazineissue."
Hepointedtothetopheading,justtotheleftofthepagenumber.ItreadMarch28,1932.
Harlansaid,"Thatscarcelyneedstranslation.ThenumbersareaboutthoseofStandardIntertemporalandyouseeit’sthe19.32ndCentury.Don’tyouknowthatatthattimenohumanbeingwhohadeverlivedhadseenthemushroomcloud?Noonecouldpossiblyreproduceitsoaccurately,except--"
"Now,wait.It’sjustalinepattern,"saidTwissell,tryingtoretainhisequilibrium."Itmightresemblethemushroomcloudonlycoincidentally."
"Mightit?Willyoulookatthewordingagain?"Harlan’sfingerspunchedouttheshortlines:"Allthe-Talk-Ofthe-Market.TheinitialsspelloutATOM,whichisEnglishforatom.Isthatcoincidence,too?Notachance.
"Don’tyousee,Computer,howthisadvertisementfitstheconditionsyouyourselfsetup?Itcaughtmyeyeinstantly.Cooperknewitwouldoutofsheeranachronism.Atthesametime,ithasnomeaningotherthanitsfacevalue,nomeaningatall,foranymanofthe19.32nd.
"SoitmustbeCooper.That’shismessage.WehavethedatetothenearestweekofaCenticentury.Wehavehismailingaddress.ItisonlynecessarytogoafterhimandI’mtheonlyonewithenoughknowledgeofthePrimitivetomanagethat
