Конец вечности
Computer
Hewasangryatherforembarrassinghim,angryathimselfforbeingembarrassed,andangry,mostofall,forsomeobscurereason,atFinge.
Fingecalledhiminattheendoftwoweeks.OnhisdeskwasasheetofperforatedflimsythelengthandintricacyofwhichtoldHarlanatoncethatthisconcernednohalf-hourexcursionintoTime.
Fingesaid,"Wouldyousitdown,Harlan,andscanthisthingrightnow?No,notbyeye.Usethemachine."
Harlanliftedindifferenteyebrows,andinsertedthesheetcarefullybetweenthelipsofthescanneronFinge’sdesk.Slowlyitpassedintotheintestinesofthemachineand,asitdidso,theperforationpatternwastranslatedintowordsthatappearedonthecloudy-whiterectanglethatwasthevisualattachment.
Somewhereaboutmidpoint,Harlan’shandshotoutanddisconnectedthescanner.Heyankedtheflimsyoutwithaforcethattoreitstoughcellulitestructure.
Fingesaidcalmly,"Ihaveanothercopy."
ButHarlanwasholdingtheremnantsbetweenthumbandforefingerasthoughitmightexplode."ComputerFinge,thereissomemistake.SurelyIamnottobeexpectedtousethehomeofthiswomanasbaseforanear-weekstayinTime."
TheComputerpursedhislips."Whynot,ifthespatio-temporalrequirementsaresuch.IfthereisapersonalprobleminvolvedbetweenyourselfandMissLam—"
"Nopersonalproblematall,"interposedHarlanhotly.
"Somekindofproblem,certainly.Inthecircumstances,IwillgoasfarastoexplaincertainaspectsoftheObservationalproblem.Thisisnottobetakenasaprecedent,ofcourse."
