"Mike Resnick & David Gerrold - Jellyfish" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

medicinal.

Eventually, he mumbled, “Tranticleer, Tranquiloor, Trandilor.”
Trandilor. He repeated it a few times. Then he turned to the typewriter and
typed it out to see what it would look like on the page. Trandilor. No, didn’t
look right.

He considered Trazendilorr and Trassenadilor, but those seemed
overburdened.

He finally settled on Tryllifandillor.

The existence of the world of Tryllifandillor, he typed, is impossible.
Impossible means that it can-not exist in any domain where existence
exists.
 Therefore, it can only exist in a domain where existence does not
exist. You will find it only where existence is impossible. Because the
domain of non-existence can only exist elsewhere than existence, it creates
a profound cosmological loop-hole. Only things that cannot exist, can exist
in the domain of non-existence.

Filk was one of the few people on the planet who could think these
thoughts without hurting him-self. This was his particular superpower.
Everybody on Earth has a superpower of some kind or other. Only three
people know this. Filk was not one of them.

In other words, because Tryllifandillor is impos-sible, its existence is
inevitable—within the domain of impossibility.

See?

Filk never thought about what he was typing. The moving fingers
moved, then moved on, prac-tically of their own volition. Like pink anteater
snouts picking busy insects off the keys. Unless the typewriter was clashing
its mandibles, and knock wood, that hadn’t happened lately. Today his
fin-gers were little pistons, merely following the loudest orders that the
voices shouted inside his head.

Tryllifandillor is a gas giant that failed to ignite. The winds of
inevitability blew across its heart for billennia—he loved that word and tried
to use it once or twice in every book—but as hard as they blew, nothing
ever happened. Because of its condi-tion of impossibility, the embers at its
core only smoldered, never erupted. Instead of blazing in ferocious rage, it
simply simmered. Instead of becoming a sun to its planets, blasting them
with harsh light and killing radiation, Tryllifandillor remained only a large,
lonely failure with a scat-tered handful of frozen oversized satellites.
Instead of planets, Tryllifandillor had ice-encrusted moons.

The moons, of this massive disappointment, cir-cle in improbable
orbits. They keep the huge brown sphere stabilized on its axis. As the