"Frank Herbert - The GM Effect" - читать интересную книгу автора (Herbert Brian & Frank)

The GM Effect
Frank Herbert, 1965


It was a balmy fall evening and as Dr Valeric Sabantoce seated himself at the long table in
Meade Hall's basement seminar room, he thought of how the weather would be sensationalized
tomorrow by the newspapers and wire services. They would be sure to remark on the general
clemency of the elements, pointing out how Nature's smiling aspect made the night's tragedy
so much more horrible.
Sabantoce was a short, rotund man with a wild shock of black hair that looked as though it
had never known a comb. His round face with its look of infant innocence invariably led
strangers to an incorrect impression - unless they were at once exposed to his ribald wit or
caught the weighted stare of his deeply-socketed brown eyes.
Fourteen people sat around the long table now - nine students and five faculty - with
Professor Joshua Latchley in the chairman's seat at the head.
'Now that we're all here,' Latchley said, 'I can tell you the purpose of tonight's meeting. We
are faced with a most terrible decision. We ... ahhh -'
Latchley fell silent, chewed at his lower lip. He was conscious of the figure he cut here - a
tall, ungainly bald man in thick-lensed glasses ... the constant air of apology he wore as
though it were a shield. Tonight, he felt that this appearance was a disguise. Who could
guess - except Sabantoce, of course - at the daring exposed by this seemingly innocent
gathering?
'Don't leave 'em hanging there, Josh,' Sabantoce said.
'Yes ... ahh, yes,' Latchley said. 'It has occurred to me that Dr Sabantoce and I have a
special demonstration to present here tonight, but before we expose you to that experiment,
as it were, perhaps we should recapitulate somewhat.'
Sabantoce, wondering what had diverted Latchley, glanced around the table - saw that
they were not all there. Dr Richard Marmon was missing.
Did he suspect and make a break for it? Sabantoce wondered. He realized then that
Latchley was stalling for time while Marmon was being hunted out and brought in here.
Latchley rubbed his shiny pate. He had no desire to be here, he thought. But this had to be
done. He knew that outside on the campus the special 9 p.m. hush had fallen over Yankton
Technical Institute and this was his favorite hour for strolling - perhaps up to the frosh pond
to listen to the frogs and the couples and to think on the etymological derivations of -
He became conscious of restless coughing and shuffling around the table, realized he had
permitted his mind to wander. He was infamous for it, Latchley knew. He cleared his throat.
Where the devil was that Marmon? Couldn't they find him?
'As you know,' Latchley said, 'we've made no particular efforts to keep our discovery
secret, although we've tried to discourage wild speculation and outside discussion. Our
intention was to conduct thorough tests before publishing. All of you - both the student ...
ahh, 'guinea pigs' and your professors of the faculty committee - have been most
co-operative. But inevitably news of what we are doing here has spread - sometimes in a very
hysterical and distorted manner.'
'What Professor Latchley is saying,' Sabantoce interrupted, 'is that the fat's in the fire.'
Expressions of curiosity appeared on the faces of the students who, up to this moment,
had been trying to conceal their boredom. Old Dr Inkton had a fit of coughing.
'There's an old Malay expression,' Sabantoce said, 'that when one plays Bumps-a-Daisy
with a porcupine, one is necessarily jumpy. Now, all of us should've known this porcupine was
loaded.'
 'Thank you, Dr Sabantoce,' Latchley said. 'I feel ... and I know this is a most unusual