Конец вечности
Prelude to Crime
There’snothingintherulesagainstthis,Technician"-hedustedthefingerwithwhichhehadtouchedtheobjectagainstthesideseamofhistrouserleg-"butIdon’tknowthatit’sadvisabletoallowthecultureofthehomewhentoaffectone.ThetrueEternaladoptswhatevercultureheissurroundedby.Idoubt,forinstance,ifIhaveeatenoutofanenergicutensilmorethantwiceinfiveyears."Hesighed."Andyettoallowfoodtotouchmatterhasalwaysseemedunclean.ButIdon’tgivein.Idon’tgivein."
Hiseyesreturnedtothewoodenobject,butnowheheldbothhandsbehindhisback,andsaid,"Whatisit?Whatisitspurpose?"
"It’sabookcase,"saidHarlan.HehadtheimpulsetoaskFingehowhefeltnowthathishandsrestedfirmlyuponthesmallofhisback.Wouldhenotconsideritcleanertohavehisclothesandhisownbodyconstructedofpureandundefiledenergyfields?
Finge’seyebrowslifted."Abookcase.Thenthoseobjectsrestingupontheshelvesarebooks.Isthatright?"
"Yes,sir."
"Authenticspecimens?"
"Entirely,Computer.Ipickedthemupinthe24th.ThefewIhaveheredatefromthe20th.If-ifyouintendtolookatthem,Iwishyou’dbecareful.Thepageshavebeenrestoredandimpregnated,butthey’renotfoil.Theytakecarefulhandling."
"Iwon’ttouchthem.Ihavenointentionoftouchingthem.Original20thCenturydustisonthem,Iimagine.Actualbooks!"Helaughed."Pagesofcellulose,too?Youimpliedthat."
Harlannodded."Cellulosemodifiedbytheimpregnationtreatmentforlongerlife.Yes."
