To Ride Pegasus
- Автор: Маккефри Энн
- Серия: Talents #1
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «To Ride Pegasus». Краткое содержание книги:
“Join you?” Henner burst out laughing. His head went back showing a veritable gold field of fillings in his upper teeth. “By God, Darrow, you’ve made my day!
If you can’t, lick ‘em, recruit ‘em?”
“Actually,” Henry went on smoothly, seating himself and crossing his legs, counterfeiting an ease he didn’t feel. He noted the flicker of irritation in Henner’s face but the financier had a reputation of letting a man have enough rope to hang himself. “Actually, Mr. Henner, your abilities in the financial world are as solidly derived from the parapsychic as my own. Incidentally, you’re the crystal ball reader…although I see you’ve got a modern computer for stock market print-out instead of the old glass case.”
Henner gave an amused grunt but said nothing, his silence a subtle prod to keep Henry talking.
“You’re known,” Henry continued obediently, because that was the way the interview ought to proceed, “to have a genius, a second sight into what stocks are going to rise, which will fall, what bond issues will pay the keenest long-term profit. And I can prove that you’re parapsychic.”
Henner cocked his head slightly to one side, his amusement deepening, as he tacitly encouraged Henry to produce his proof. Darrow spread the graph out on the table. “I know you’ve followed the news media coverage on us, so you’re familiar with this sort of graph. What you may not immediately appreciate is the fact that this is your graph.”
Henner became immobile with attention.
“When you had your last routine physical a month ago, your physician employed a Goosegg. He didn’t realize that it wasn’t his own office model so he’s blameless. You did, however, experience what we call an Incident and it is recorded on this graph, here and here. I believe the Incident was in connection with the Allied Metals and Mining merger in which you managed quite a ‘killing.’ “
“You don’t read thought from an EEC graph, Darrow.”
“Hardly. But you placed a phone call directly you were through your physical to your office and within the next few hours the merger was announced…but not before you had acquired a tidy pile of Allied stock. Are my facts correct?”
Henner nodded slowly, his eyes, narrowed to intense slits, watching Henry Darrow’s face.
“That’s proof,” Henry said, rustling the graph paper, “that you’re parapsychic, Mr. Henner.”
The silence which ensued, designed to make Darrow exceedingly uncomfortable, did not. For a long space, Henry returned George Henner’s stare, then folded his arms and gazed around the beautiful room. Finally he turned back to Henner and smiled.
“Blackmail?” asked Henner.
Darrow shook his head,
“No. You’d be far too clever for that. No, I’d hazard the guess that you want to borrow my Talent, as you call it, to make your fortunes? That would still be essentially blackmail, wouldn’t it, Darrow?”
Henry pursed his lips a little, expressing dubiety.
“Well, then what is it you want from me? It’s something.”
“Actually, it’s the twelve acre tract of land on the Palisades.”
Once again Henry wished he were a telepath to read the emotions swiftly passing through George Henner’s mind. He had startled the financier, he had touched the most vulnerable point of the shrewd man’s life: his intense love, and need for, the beautiful estate of Beechwoods. It had been in Henner’s family for a hundred and forty years, was a showplace which few saw. And Henner’s need of Beechwoods was as great and for the same reasons as Henry Darrow’s.
“How could you know?” demanded Henner in a hoarse whisper.
“That the State intends to confiscate all privately held lands within a hundred mile radius of the Jerhattan city limits? I know because it is as important to me as it is to you to know these things.”
Henner was on his feet, pacing to release the energy of his anger. In a barely audible monotone he inventively assigned destinations to the State en masse, the needs of the unhoused, unwashed multitudes in general and those particular officials who had failed to keep Henner’s ancestral home inviolate.
“If, however, the property is already owned by a religious, medical, educational or charitable institution which will accommodate a sufficient number of our ever-expanding population, they cannot confiscate your property even under the terms of Section 91, Paragraph 12 of the Housing Act of 1998.”
“This is 1997, man. That Act isn’t passed yet. I can still defeat it.”
“No. It will be passed.”
Henner tried to stare that knowledge out of Henry’s mind.
“And you know the inevitability, Mr. Henner. None of your contacts can hold out any hope of defeating that measure, nor of defending your Beechwoods.”
“And it’s your table-tilting tea-leaf readers who’ll infest my home?”
“Your physical condition is poor, Mr. Henner, and your nerves damned near the breaking point. The solitude and privacy of this house and its grounds are vital to your life. It would be to any parapsychic mind forced to tune in on the emotional chaos that haunts the very air we breathe. You know you’ve been living on borrowed time for the past year. You know what alternative dwelling accommodations will do to you.”
“Do you happen to know,” asked Henner casually for he’d got control of himself again, “the exact date of my death?”
“As I know the exact time of mine, Mr. Henner. You will die of a heart attack, the aorta will be closed by a globule of the atherosclerotic matter coating your veins, at nine-twenty-one PM, exactly one year, nine months and fourteen days from now.”
A gleam of challenge livened the deadly intent of Henner’s gaze. “And if I don’t?”.
“If you don’t, then revoke the grant of Beechwoods to the Center. In the meantime, you’ll have secured your last days in the ancestral home, which is your prime concern at the moment.”
“I could have a heart transplant…” Henner was clearly enjoying this.
“Not with a diseased liver and the condition of your arteries.”
“And that’s your prophecy, Darrow?”
“A medical certainty,” Henry said. “I’ve toyed with the notion of a transplant myself since my death will also occur from myocardial infarction on a certain
May twelfth, at ten-fifty-two PM. But by May twelfth of that year, I intend to have accomplished the major part of what needs to be done to establish a viable, self-sufficient Parapsychic Center in North America…”
“On the Beechwoods estate?”
“On the Beechwoods estate. By May twelfth, I shall be grateful for the peace and tranquility of my grave.”
Henner’s eyes flicked from Darrow’s to some inner middle distance, the harsh cynical lines of the financier’s face softened.
“ ‘Ease after war, death after life does greatly please’?” The words were softly spoken but there was no quarter in the hard look Henner then turned on Henry
Darrow.
“In your scheming where does this house end up?”
“As an integral part of the Center.”
Henner’s expression was ironic. “And my money? I’ve no next of kin.”
Darrow laughed. “You keep harping on your money, Mr. Henner. We don’t need your money. Check our books on that. But only the Center can offer one of its own members what his money hasn’t been able to secure for him.”
For a long time Henner gazed out the French windows that gave on the flagged terrace, towards the sweep of magnificent lawn and the superb beech trees. When
Henner finally turned back to Henry, his hand was extended. The two men shook three times in the ancient custom of binding a bargain.
“Answer me one thing, Darrow! Did you foresee winning?”