"George Zebrowski - The Star Web" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zebrowski George)

Around him were benches of various sizes, and standing things that looked like cabinets. Juan sat down
to catch his breath. He heard his heart beating loudly in his chest. He heard his pulse in his ears… distant
plodding footsteps.

Suddenly the ceiling turned a dull red and he felt heat penetrate to every part of his body. He started to
sweat in his heavy clothing. Then the ceiling changed back to white and he felt a cool breeze rush through
the room. There was a sweet scent in the air, pleasant yet similar to the sweetness of pure oxygen.

He turned and walked back in the direction he thought he had come from. A bright red oval appeared in
the section of wall. He reached out to touch it and his hand disappeared. He pulled it back and looked at
it. There was nothing wrong. Putting both arms out in front, he walked into the glowing oval—and
stepped out into the curving passage. There was no one to his right or left. He turned around in time to
see the portal fade away. He stepped up to the place where it had been and put out his hand. The
doorway appeared again, and disappeared when he pulled his hand back.

As he stood there, he realized that no technology of his time could possibly have produced this kind of
doorway. This entire place was a functioning relic from a past which could not possibly have existed. He
felt a stirring of prideful resentment toward the past culture that could have built this entire structure. It
was the kind of thing one might expect of humanity's future, a goal to work toward. If the past had
achieved what he saw, then the present was a time of decline. How would the world receive such
evidence of its lesser status?

Back along the passage, the others began to appear as each in turn learned the mechanism of the doors.
Most likely the entire length of the winding passage was spaced with entranceways, probably on both
sides. For a moment the room he had left reminded him of a bath.

There was a look of personal pride on Summet's face. "Juan, we're going no further—these rooms come
first. We have got to start taking photographs. I've just seen some very curious things. What happened to
you?"

"I think I just took a bath… I'm not sure. Titus, all this, it doesn't disturb you?"
"Not very much, really. Why should it? It's the archeological find of the century. Whatever it is, we'll
figure it out."

"What do you think it is, Titus?" Rassmussen asked from behind him.

The director turned around to face Magnus, then turned back to Obrion. "You're all trying to needle me.
I warn you…" Then he smiled. "Why not, I try to be in a good mood."

"Well, what do you think this is?" Lena asked.

The worldly man shrugged his wide shoulders, wrinkled his bushy brown eyebrows and said, "For one
thing, it's an Earth Resource as of right now, and fully protected by my… by the authority of UN
Resources Security. Everyone will get his share— nations, scientists, everyone, depending on why they
need it and what good it will do. For now, everyone out back topside! That's an official order."

Juan looked at Ivan Dimitryk, who stood next to the director. There was a satisfied look on his face.

Lena sighed. "You're forgetting we have to look for Malachi."