"Тед Чан. Seventy-Two Letters (72 буквы, Рассказ) (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

giant that cranked the drive wheel tirelessly.
Walking past, Stratton could detect a faint coolness in the air as the
engine drew heat from its surroundings.
The next room held the molds for casting. Chalky white shells bearing
the inverted contours of various automata were stacked along the walls. In
the central portion of the room, apron-clad journeymen sculptors worked
singly and in pairs, tending the cocoons from which automata were hatched.
The sculptor nearest him was assembling the mold for a putter, a
broad-headed quadruped employed in the mines for pushing trolleys of ore.
The young man looked up from his work. "Were you looking for someone,
sir?" he asked.
"I’m to meet Master Willoughby here," replied Stratton.
"Pardon, I didn’t realize. I’m sure he’ll be here shortly." The
journeyman returned to his task. Harold Willoughby was a Master Sculptor
First-Degree; Stratton was consulting him on the design of a reusable mold
for casting his automaton. While he waited, Stratton strolled idly amongst
the molds. His automaton stood motionless, ready for its next command.
Willoughby entered from the door to the metalworks, his face flushed
from the heat of the foundry. "My apologies for being late, Mr.
Stratton," he said. "We’ve been working toward a large bronze for some
weeks now, and today was the pour. You don’t want to leave the lads alone
at a time like that."
"I understand completely," replied Stratton.
Wasting no time, Willoughby strode over to the new automaton. "Is this
what you’ve had Moore doing all these months?" Moore was the journeyman
assisting Stratton on his project.
Stratton nodded. "The boy does good work." Following Stratton’s
requests, Moore had fashioned countless bodies, all variations on a single
basic theme, by applying modeling clay to an armature, and then used them
to create plaster casts on which Stratton could test his names.
Willoughby inspected the body. "Some nice detail; looks straightforward
enough--hold on now." He pointed to the automaton’s hands: rather than the
traditional paddle or mitten design, with fingers suggested by grooves in
the surface, these were fully formed, each one having a thumb and four
distinct and separate fingers. "You don’t mean to tell me those are
functional?"
"That’s correct."
Willoughby’s skepticism was plain. "Show me."
Stratton addressed the automaton. "Flex your fingers." The automaton
extended both hands, flexed and straightened each pair of fingers in turn,
and then returned its arms to its sides.
"I congratulate you, Mr. Stratton," said the sculptor. He squatted to
examine the automaton’s fingers more closely. "The fingers need to be bent
at each joint for the name to take?"
"That’s right. Can you design a piece mold for such a form?"
Willoughby clicked his tongue several times. "That’ll be a tricky bit
of business," he said. "We might have to use a waste mold for each
casting. Even with a piece mold, these’d be very expensive for ceramic."
"I think they will be worth the expense. Permit me to demonstrate."
Stratton addressed to the automaton. "Cast a body; use that mold over