"Philip E. High - Twin Planets" - читать интересную книгу автора (High Phillip E)

It was clear also, by the sly looks of some of his colleagues and the
embarrassed pity of others, that Beacham had related both his conquest
and the subsequent "scene" to the entire staff.

Denning worked for a small firm of industrial architects and, for the
last week, he had been using his entire will-power to go to work.

He was, he knew, a competent but uninspired architect with little hope
of achieving sensational success, but at least he had been secure and
almost content. Now he was a clown, a cuckold, despised by his associates
and, no doubt, being reappraised by his employers.

At home, it was almost as bad. Marian was either out or shut in her
room and,-if they met, she called him "cave-worm."

Denning realized suddenly that he was bitterly cold and opened his
eyes. It was clear that his nerves———

His mind froze with his body and became blank and uncomprehending.
It couldn't be, it couldn't. Deep down inside him he whimpered.
 There was no shelter, no bus stop, no familiar road, and a shrieking
wind buffeted madly at the stationary car.

It was almost dark. Stars were visible and the sky was lit at the poles by
an aurora such as had never been seen.

He bunked painfully. Ahead of him, a mile-wide road stretched to a
horizon that looked like a burned black line against a white and crimson
fire which flared like the open door of a blast furnace.

Denning put his hands over his eyes. "Hell," he thought, dully. "I'm
dead. I must have been killed somewhere, probably in a road accident."

He looked again -at the horizon, at the long black shadows leaning in
darkness from every mound and hill, at the rim of fire encompassing the
visible curvature of the Earth. It looked like a sunset gone mad.

Clearly, this was hell, but a Scandinavian hell of green ice and cold
vipers———

Slowly his mind began to function and, by degrees, to reason. There
was ice on the hood of the car, and the windshield was filigreed with frost.
When you died, when you were killed, did you take your car with you?
Would you be smoking the same cigarette? Somehow, none of it made
sense and he was filled with an overwhelming panic. Got to get away
from here, got to turn the car around and head away from that ghastly
burning glare.

He rumbled, shaking for the switch and turned it sharply to the right.