Конец вечности
Life-Plotter
Hisfingerswerelongandhiswristsknobby.AshecaressedhissmallSummator,helookedlikeDeathweighingasoulinthebalance.
HarlanfoundhimselfstaringattheSummatorhungrily.ItwastheheartandbloodofLife-Plotting,theskinandbones,sinew,muscleandallelse.Feedintoittherequireddataofapersonalhistory,andtheequationsoftheRealityChange;dothatanditwouldchuckleawayinobscenemerrimentforanylengthoftimefromaminutetoaday,andthenspitoutthepossiblecompanionlivesforthepersoninvolved(underthenewReality),eachneatlyticketedwithaprobabilityvalue.
SociologistVoyintroducedHarlan.Feruque,havingstaredinopenannoyanceattheTechnician’sinsigne,noddedhisheadandletthemattergo.
Harlansaid,"Istheyounglady’sLife-Plotcompleteyet?"
"Itisnot.I’llletyouknowwhenitis."HewasoneofthosewhocarriedcontemptfortheTechniciantothepointofopenrudeness.
Voysaid,"Takeiteasy,Life-Plotter."
Feruquehadeyebrowswhichwerelightalmosttoinvisibility.Itheightenedtheresemblanceofhisfacetoaskull.Hiseyesrolledinwhatshouldhavebeenemptysocketsashesaid,"Killedthespaceships?"
Voynodded."CutitdownaCentury."
Feruque’slipstwistedsoftlyandformedaword.
HarlanfoldedhisarmsandstaredattheLife-Plotter,wholookedawayineventualdiscomfiture.
Harlanthought:Heknowsit’shisguilttoo.
