Конец вечности

           Theknowledge,itwassaid,wouldautomaticallydistorthisview,howeverconscientioushetriedtobe.

           Butunderthecircumstancesignorancewasirritating.Harlansuspectedstronglythattherewasnothingtolookfor,thathewasplayingFinge’sgameinsomeway.BetweenthatandNoys.

           Hestaredsavagelyattheimageofhimselfcastinthree-dimensionalaccuracytwofeetinfrontofhimbytheReflector.Theclinginggarmentsofthe482nd,seamlessandbrightincoloring,madehim,hethought,lookridiculous.

           NoysLambentcamerunningtohimjustafterhehadfinishedasolitarybreakfastbroughttohimbyaMekkano.

           Shesaidbreathlessly,"It’sJune,TechnicianHarlan."

           Hesaidharshly,"Donotusethetitlehere.WhatifitisJune?"

           "ButitwasFebruarywhenIjoined"-shepauseddoubtfully-"thatplace,andthatwasonlyamonthago."

           Harlanfrowned."Whatyearisitnow?"

           "Oh,it’stherightyear."

           "Areyousure?"

           "I’mquitepositive.Hastherebeenamistake?"Shehadadisturbinghabitofstandingquiteclosetohimastheytalkedandherslightlisp(atraitoftheCenturyratherthanofherselfpersonally)gaveherthesoundofayoungandratherhelplesschild.Harlanwasnotfooledbythat.Hedrewaway.

           "Nomistake.You’vebeenputherebecauseit’smoresuitable.Actually,inTime,youhavebeenhereallalong."

           "ButhowcouldI?"Shelookedmorefrightenedstill."Idon’trememberanythingaboutit.Aretheretwome’s?"

           Harlanwasfarmoreirritatedthanthecausewarranted.