"Stephen Goldin - The Last Ghost & Other Stories" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goldin Stephen)

to useless, for the men had slipped deeper and deeper into states which could only be termed deliria,
eventually losing touch with reality completely and ceasing communication.
Earth's curiosity and the need for the technology this city represented was powerful. Because of it,
sixteen men had entered the city and gone insane.
Perhaps, there would be a seventeenth. Exhaling loudly, Ryan crossed the boundary.
#

Nothing happened. Ryan stood there expectantly, muscles tensed and jaw set, but there was no
difference between his sensations now and his sensations of a moment before. He took his communicator
out of his pocket once more, relishing the comfort it gave him. "I have just crossed the boundary into the
city. So far, I feel no effects."
"Good," replied the ship. "Proceed toward the center of the city. Move slowly and take no chances."
"Acknowledged," said Ryan, and clicked off again.
The nearest buildings were still over a hundred meters away. Ryan approached them with great
deliberation. Every sense was straining, seeking some signal, however faint, of danger. Nothing moved,
and the only sounds were the whisperings of the wind. The city had no odor at all, which was even more
noticeable than a stench. Ryan had the faint impression of stepping into a crystal castle, but that thought
vanished quickly.
He arrived at the first building and reached out a tentative hand to touch it. It was smooth and hard like
glass, yet opaque; it felt neither cold nor warm to his questing fingers, but it did make his fingertips tingle.
He withdrew his hand. The places where his fingers had touched were small, dark marks against the
otherwise milky surface. The spots faded as he watched, until the whole wall was uniform once again.
There were no openings or breaks anywhere along the wall. Ryan walked alongside it, parallel without
touching it again. He looked for a doorway or opening of some kind by which he could enter the building.
The wall seemed smooth, hard, and continuous with no apparent entrance. Yet suddenly a section of wall
shimmered out of existence, leaving a spacious portal for Ryan to use. He jumped back, startled, then
pulled out his communicator and described the latest development to the ship in orbit above him.
"Has anything else of potential danger happened?" was the reply.
"Not yet. There still doesn't appear to be any sign of life, other than the appearance of this door."
"Then you must take the risk of going in and exploring," Java-10 said coldly.
Sure, Ryan thought, what do you care? It's not your skin. "Acknowledged."
He had a flashlight with him, but one glance inside showed him that he wouldn't have to use it. The
interior of the building was brightly lit, the glow seeming to diffuse from the walls. Entering, Ryan looked
wonderingly about him.
The building was utterly bare of furnishings. The only detail in it was a broad spiral staircase that
ascended along the cylindrical walls, up, and up, and up. The scout craned his neck back to follow the
stairway's course, but it just seemed to keep on going to infinity. Every twenty-five steps, there was a
wide landing with a little window in the wall to look out upon the city. A banister of clear plastic ran along
the inner edge of the staircase.
Ryan moved forward slowly, still alert for anything that might happen. The echo that his boots made as
they scraped along the hard stone floor was almost deafening in comparison to the total silence that
blanketed the rest of the city. He reached the beginning of the staircase and put his hand on the railing.
The plastic felt cool and strangely comforting, as though he had run into an old friend amongst this
strangeness. He started up the stairs cautiously, one foot ahead of the other, his hand firmly on the guard
rail. His eyes scanned from side to side, watching for any conceivable danger. But none appeared. Then
impatience gripped him, and he started running up the stairway.
He stopped for breath, finally, at the fourth landing. He was now perhaps some sixteen meters above the
ground level. The doorway was still there, waiting patiently for his return, but it looked much smaller from
this height. He walked over to the window, looked out, and saw
New York City at noonday, its pedways filled with businessmen on their way to lunch, shoppers in