"George O. Smith - Highways in Hiding" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith George O)

“Forget it, Steve. I always check for it because it's been my specialty. Don't worry.”

#Okay. So how long have I been here?#

“Eight days.”

#Eight days? Couldn't you do the usual job?#

“You were pretty badly ground up, Steve. That's what took the time. Now, suppose you tell me what
happened?”

#Catherine and I were eloping. Just like most other couples do since Rhine Institute made it difficult to
find personal privacy. Then we cracked up.#

“What did it?” asked the doctor. “Perceptives like you usually sense danger before you can see it.”

#Catherine called my attention to a peculiar road sign, and I sent my perception back to take another dig.
We hit the fallen limb of a tree and went over and over. You know the rest.#

“Bad,” said the doctor. “But what kind of a sign would call your interest so deep that you didn't at least
see the limb, even if you were perceiving the sign?”

#Peculiar sign,# I thought. #Ornamental wrought iron gizmo with curlicues and a little decorative circle
that sort of looks like the Boy Scout tenderfoot badge suspended on three spokes. One of the spokes
were broken away; I got involved because I was trying to guess whether it had been shot away by some
vandal who missed the central design. Then—blooie!#

“It's really too bad, Steve. But you'll be all right in a while.”

#Thanks, doctor. Doctor? Doctor—?#

“Sorry, Steve. I forget that everybody is not telepath like I am. I'm James Thorndyke.”

Much later I began to wake up again, and with better clarity of mind, I found that I could extend my
esper as far as the wall and through the door by a few inches. It was strictly hospital all right; sere white
and stainless steel as far as my esper could reach.

In my room was a nurse, rustling in starched white. I tried to speak, croaked once, and then paused to
form my voice.

“Can—I see—How is—? Where is?” I stopped again, because the nurse was probably as esper as I
was and required a full sentence to get the thought behind it. Only a telepath like the doctor could have
followed my jumbled ideas. But the nurse was good. She tried:

“Mr. Cornell? You're awake!”

“Look—nurse—”

“Take it easy. I'm Miss Farrow. I'll get the doctor.”