"Robert Reed - The Myrtle Man" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reed Robert)

"Round," Harry replied, almost growling. "That's what Mom says." Amy hesitated
on the top stair, remaining silent.

"It is round. How can it be anything else ?" The myrtle man laughed, then
asked,
"What's your name?"

"Harry. What's yours?"

"Jacob."

"It says Jacob on your shirt," Harry observed.

"Very astute."

"What's astute mean?" He shouted up at his mother, "Can I look up 'a-stute'?"
She said, "No."

"Why not?"

She entered the library, suddenly angry. "Because it's lying to us, Harry.
Didn't I tell you?"

Jacob seemed oblivious of them. Walking into the little room, he stopped and
turned in a slow, observant circle, saying, "Oh, this is a fine one. A
beautiful
old Universal, isn't it?"

She couldn't say.

"A Universal 8. No, it's the 9."

"Is it?"

"Twenty years old, if it's a nanosecond." Jacob began to stroke the bindings
of
the false books, then pulled on one as if to test its falseness. No, it was
rooted in place. It and the others were camouflage for the machinery set
within,
the sum total of human knowledge-- every published word and painting video and
photograph, plus every recorded musical and dramatic performance -- existed in
a
digital form, literally at their fingertips.

As were the damned myrtles, too.

"The library came with the house," said Amy, as if to apologize for its age.
"We
thought about buying a new one --"