"Olaf Stapledon - Collected Stories" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stapledon Olaf)

Presently the advancing plane's four engines hesitated, and ceased one by one to fire. The plane glided
for a while, but soon gave evidence of being out of control. It vacillated, staggered, and then was in a
nose dive, spiralling. Helen screamed, but did nothing. The plane disappeared behind a distant wood.
After a few seconds there Was a muffled crash, and smoke began to rise from behind the wood, a
leaning black plume.

Jim raised himself from Helen's lap, and turning, pressed her backward to the ground. "That's how I love
you," he whispered fiercely. Then he furiously kissed her lips, her neck.

She made a violent effort to pull herself together and resist the impulse of self-abandonment to this
lunatic. She struggled to free herself from his grip; and presently the two stood facing each other, panting.
"You're mad," she cried. "Think what you have done! You have killed people just to show how clever
you are. And then you make love to me." She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

He was still in a state of crazy exaltation, and he laughed. Then he taunted her. "Call yourself a realist!
You're squeamish. Well, now you know what I am really like; and what I can do. And see! You're mine.
I can kill you at any moment, wherever you are. I shall do whatever I like with you. And if you try to stop
me, you'll go the way of the robin and--the man on the bus." Her hands dropped from her tear-stained
face. She stared at him in mingled horror--and tenderness. She said quietly, "You're quite mad, you poor
boy. And you seemed so gentle. Oh, my dear, what can I do about you?"

There was a long silence. Then suddenly Jim collapsed on the ground, blubbering like a child. She stood
over him in perplexity.

While she was wondering what to do, and blaming herself for not breaking the spell before it was too
late, he was in an agony of self-loathing. Then he started to use his technique upon himself, so that no
more harm should be done. It was more difficult than he expected; for as soon as he began to lose
consciousness he also lost his grip on the operation. But he made a desperate effort of will. When Helen,
noticing his stillness, knelt down by him, he was dead.

EAST IS WEST
I LEFT MY LODGINGS IN WEST KIRBY IN THE MIDDLE OF the morning and walked along the
Estuary shore, I arriving at my favourite bathing place when the tide was only a few yards from the foot
of the clay cliffs. The sand, as usual on a fine Sunday, was crowded with parties, bathing and
sun-bathing. I undressed and Swam out till the coast was but a strip between sea and sky. At my farthest
point I floated for a long while, the sun pouring through my closed eyelids. I began to feel giddy and
slightly sick, so I hurried back to land.

During the rather lengthy swim I was surprised to see that the shore and the cliff-top, which I thought had
been crowded, were in fact deserted. The one heap of clothes which I could detect, and which I
therefore took to be my own, perplexed me by its colour. I was still more perplexed when I walked out
of the water to it and found that apparently someone had removed my own flannels and had substituted a
queer fancy dress of "Chinesy," pyjama-like trousers and jacket, both made of richly ornamented blue
brocade. Even the towel was decorated with a Chinese or Japanese pattern; but in one comer it was
marked with my own name. After a vain search for my proper clothes, I dried myself, and began
experimenting with the fancy dress, shivering, and cursing the practical joker.

A bright silver coin, about the size of a florin, fell out of one of the pockets. Picking it up, I was surprised
by its odd look. Closer inspection surprised me still more, for it bore on one side a grim but not
unhandsome female profile, surrounded by the legend, "Godiva Dei Gra. Brit. et Gall. Reg." On the