"Brian Lumley - Psychomech 01 - Psychomech" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lumley Brian)

Schroeder breathed in sharply and his excitement drove him to his feet. ‘A dog? A black dog, you say? A bitch? By
God!’ He slammed a fist into the palm of his hand, then grunted and stumbled, clutching at the table for support. For a
moment he swayed before almost falling into his seat. His breathing had gone ragged with pain.
‘Easy,’ Garrison told him. ‘Jesus! Don’t go banging yourself up for the sake of a bloody dream.’
Schroeder snorted, then gave a shaky laugh. ‘A bloody dream? My God, a bloody dream! Richard, the more I know
of you, the more convinced I am that you - that you . ..’
‘Yes?’
‘Listen,’ said Schroeder, ’that was no ordinary "bloody dream", Richard. It was precognition of the first order. But
something puzzles me. If you really did see the bomb in your dream—’
‘I saw it. It exploded!’
‘—Then why did you go with me into the Europa?’
‘The dream was never sufficiently distinct. I failed to relate it to reality. Why should I? I had been dreaming the thing
for three weeks. Lots of guys dream of bombs in NI. It just didn’t connect. It wasn’t until I saw the bomb itself -sitting
there in your hotel room - that I knew what was going to happen. But the bomb must have blown the whole thing back
into my subconscious mind. Jesus, it’s only just surfaced again! And even now I can’t be sure.’
‘But you will let me call in a hypnotist? A very professi&nal one, I assure you.’
‘If it will make you happy. But I’m no closer to knowing what all this is about.’
‘Very well, I’ll try to explain - in a moment. But first -come with me.’ Schroeder stood up and led the other to the far
side of the table, which in fact formed the platform of a large reflecting telescope. There he placed Garrison’s hands on
the cylindrical body of the instrument and let his fingers trace something of its outline.
‘Telescope,’ said Garrison. ‘For... astrology!’
‘Astronomy too,’ Schroeder answered. ‘But mainly astrology, yes. It is an ancient and quite exact science. My
personal astrologer is Adam Schenk, who claims direct descendance from Giambattista Porta. In fact he claims he is
Giambattista Porta! Porta invented photography, wrote the often misquoted De Furtivis Literarum Notis, and several
volumes on astrology, geometry, astral projection and the power of human thought. He also produced a pamphlet on
reincarnation, of which I have a very rare copy. I consider it highly likely that Schenk’s claim is genuine, for certainly
he seems to have retained and extended many of Porta’s facets.
‘He came to me here three weeks ago. He worked, ate, slept, studied and came to his conclusions here, at this very
table, in almost complete solitude. Part of what he told me prompted me to contact you, to bring you here. I had already
decided to provide for you - to repay my debt, as it were - but after what Schenk told me ...’ Garrison sensed te other’s
fatalistic shrug. ‘Now it has gone further than that.’
‘Actually,’ said Garrison, ‘I sort of know I’m tied up with you. I don’t know how, or why, but I feel it. It’s very
frustrating. Lack of understanding can be worse than blindness. Everything is a huge knot. I need it unravelling.
Where did it all begin?’
‘For me it began in Hitler’s Germany,’ Schroeder told him. ‘There were those high in the Fuehrer’s favour who used
black arts, dark forces. Oh, yes, they actually did. They interested him in their subject and he was converted. He came
to believe in the metapsychic powers of the mind. And he had certain powers, believe me. Or if you doubt me, listen to
his oratories. He did not merely rant, Richard.’
‘Perhaps he was merely grasping at straws, like us,’ Garrison answered. ‘I mean, in respect of his war effort.’
‘I don’t know. He was of course a madman. But if it might help him rule the world, then he must try it. Still, he only
dabbled. There were those in his employ, how-ever... I was for a time very friendly with one of them, even though I had
always considered him a crank. Certain experiments, some of which I myself took part in, helped convince me that there
was more to the parapsychological world than mundane science might explain away. You may not sense it in me, but I
am highly intuitive.’
‘I have noticed,’ Garrison wryly answered. ‘You often act instinctively, like me.’
Schroeder nodded. ‘But I am also a sensitive. That is to say, my hunches work out more often than they fail me. I
hope soon to prove that you too are a vessel.’
‘Vessel?’
‘A receiver for whatever these forces are which we loosely term ESP.’
After a moment Garrison said: ‘Go on with what you were telling me.’