"Philip E. High - The Artifact" - читать интересную книгу автора (High Phillip E)

“Sometimes there must be a mistake.”

“The only mistake which ever occurs is in interpretation. I might misunderstand what I feel. Not in this
case. I am absolutely clear.”

“But what would be thepoint ?”

“With respect, Chief, consider the matter on a purely criminal level. If a man could create his own
physical image he could commit a crime in New York yet furnish an unbreakable alibi that he was in
London at the time.”

“I regard the theory as utterly absurd but I follow you.” Ransome had recovered from his initial shock
and was thinking clearly again. “Barret, I don't like this at all because your wild theory has got me
thinking. Assume, just assume, mind you, that your theory is true. We do know that human parts have
been found and that fact is something I cannot dispute. On the other hand, I know damn well that the
average man can't make human parts unless, of course, he has help.” He stopped abruptly and glowered
at me.

“Right, Barret, I know you're way ahead of me but putting these facts together makes me go cold inside.
In comes an alien artifact from God knows where but it ends up in the possession of a well-known
con-man. Whereupon, the said con-man develops apparent magical powers in the construction of his
own double.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I started, so I'll finish. If there is an alien entity involved in this matter I'm
sure it did not confer magical powers on a prospering crook out of the goodness of its heart—if it has
one. The target shifts, Barret, from the human to something else. Any ideas about our next move?”

“Yes, I'd like ten minutes alone with that alien vase thing now that it's stopped radiating.”
The science department didn't like our intrusion but they had little choice, with all their equipment they
could only repeat it was an alien object, which was hardly informative.

When I took the object in my hands it was a job to hold on to it. My first reaction was not only cold fear,
but complete and utter revulsion. Here was an intelligence that had no knowledge of, and worse, could
not conceive of, the aspects of life which normal people regard as natural. Loyalty and compassion, to
quote two examples, were not emotions it had rejected. These were concepts that it had never known,
never considered and could not comprehend.

I, for my part, could not understand the means by which it had reached Earth. All I could get was an
impression of distortions and brain-wrenching gulfs. Perhaps it had arrived by space ship or oblique
travel though time/space. Whatever it was escaped my understanding.

I did know why it was here and that knowledge too was a numbing shock. For such an immense
intelligence to inhabit Earth for such limited ends was beyond my comprehension.

Countless books have been written about aliens seeking to conquer or dominate the Earth but this could
not have cared less. It was here only for one purpose, a surfeit of self-indulgence—it was here to eat.

Ransome took the information calmly, at first then his face paled.

“Eat what?” Then: “Don't answer that question, I can work out the answer for myself. Did you learn