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

"I'm really Peter Pan," Bael put in whimsically.
"Shut up!" shouted Ryan.
"No need to be so touchy, Jeff. I was just trying to be helpful."
"Ask him why he does not leave the city," Java-10 insisted.
"Oh, don't answer, Jeff. I'm tired of playing that computer's little god-games." He started moving toward
the doorway. "Put that stupid set away. The day's too nice to spend it talking to a box."
Ryan hesitated.
"Look, you came here to explore the city, didn't you?" Bael continued. "Well, I'm all set to give you a
guided tour. What are you waiting for — an engraved invitation? Okay, have one."
He pulled a small card from his pocket and flicked it at Ryan's feet. Ryan bent down and picked it up.
Engraved on it, in gold lettering, were the words: MR. RICHARD BAEL GRACIOUSLY REQUESTS
THE PRESENCE OF MR. JEFFREY RYAN FOR A PERSONALLY CONDUCTED TOUR OF
THE CITY.
"That good enough for you?" Bael asked conversationally.
Ryan carefully stowed the card in his samples pouch for further analysis later. "All right, Bael, have it your
way." The communicator went back in his pocket. "Lead on."
With a flourish, Bael moved out the doorway, with Ryan two steps behind. After Ryan had passed
through, the opening vanished and the wall was solid once more. He refused to worry about a minor
detail like that. He had little doubt that the city would have much bigger surprises in store for him before
long.
And he was quite right.

#

The two men walked through the city, Bael at a leisurely pace and Ryan chafing with impatience at having
to match the other's infuriatingly slow amble. There were no real streets to follow, for the city seemed not
to be laid out in any discernible pattern and there were no long stretches of open groundwide enough for
any type of vehicle. Buildings of all shapes, sizes, and colors sprang up everywhere; here a cylinder, there
a cone, a little further on a hemisphere ... there were even a couple that changed their shapes as Ryan
watched them.
"Who built this city?" he asked Bael. "Why did they do it? Where did they go?"
"It's a nice place, isn't it?" Bael ignored the questions and gestured at the city around them.
"That's no answer."
"Of course not. I don't have any. Questions are unimportant here, so answers are irrelevant."
"They sure as hell aren't. I have to know ... "
"Correction: Java-10 has to know. You don't have to do anything but enjoy yourself." Bael clucked
sympathetically. "You poor dumb bastard, you've been so brainwashed that you don't even recognize
freedom when it kisses you in the face. Let's sit down and talk for a bit."
Two comfortable-looking chairs appeared behind them. Bael took one and motioned for Ryan to take
the other. The scout tested it uneasily before placing his weight in it. "What do you want to talk about?"
he asked after he'd settled in.
"Let's start with why you're here."
"The same reason as you: to find out about the city."
"Why?"
"Technology, mostly. Anyone who could build a place like this must be so far ahead of us that we stand
to learn something just from examining their artifacts. We have to find out... "
"We?" Bael interrupted. "Do you really include yourself in that?"
The interruption made Ryan lose his train of thought, and he could only blink uncomprehendingly.
"Be honest. Were you, personally, ever that curious as to what was in this city to risk losing your sanity
by coming down here?" Bael's eyes were aglow with life as he eagerly pressed his point home. "Did you