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The Stars My Destination ( Tiger! Tiger! ) :: Bester Alfred
Страница: 111 из 164They shot through the aurora level, the meteor level, the twilight limit, the stratosphere, and down to earth. The invisible trajectories ended in titanic convulsions.
The first atomic explosion which destroyed Newark shook the Presteign mansion with an unbelievable quake. Floors and walls shuddered and the guests were thrown in heaps along with furniture and decorations. Quake followed quake as the random shower descended around New York. They were deafening, numbing, chilling. The sounds, the shocks, the flares of lurid light on the horizon were so enormous, that reason was stripped from humanity, leaving nothing but flayed animals to shriek, cower, and run. Within the space of five seconds Presteign's New Year party was transformed from elegance into anarchy.
Foyle arose from the floor. He looked at the struggling bodies on the ballroom parquet, saw Jisbella fighting to free herself, took a step toward her and then stopped. He revolved his head, dazedly, feeling it was no part of him. The thunder never ceased. He saw Robin Wednesbury in the reception hail, reeling and battered. He took a step toward her and then stopped again. He knew where he must go.
He accelerated. The thunder and lightning dropped down the spectrum to grinding and flickering. The shuddering quakes turned into greasy undulations. Foyle blurred through the giant house, searching, until at last he found her, standing in the garden, standing tiptoe on a marble bench looking like a marble statue to his accelerated senses . . . the statue of exaltation.
He decelerated. Sensation leaped up the spectrum again and once more he was buffeted by that bigger-than-death size bombardment.
«Lady Olivia,» he called.
«Who is that?»
«The clown.»
«Fourmyle?»
«Yes.»
«And you came searching for me? I'm touched, really touched.»
«You're insane to be standing out here like this. I beg you to let me…”
«No, no, no. It's beautiful. . . Magnificent!»
«Let me jaunte with you to some place that's safe.»
«Mi, you see yourself as a knight in armor? Chivalry to the rescue. It doesn't suit you, my dear. You haven't the flair for it. You'd best go.»
«I'll stay.»
«As a beauty lover?»
«As a lover.»
«You're still tedious, Fourmyle. Come, be inspired. This is Armageddon Flowering Monstrosity. Tell me what you see.»
«There's nothing much,» he answered, looking around and wincing. «There's light all over the horizon. Quick clouds of it. Above, there's a sort of sparkling effect. Like Christmas lights twinkling.»
«Oh, you see so little with your eyes.
The first atomic explosion which destroyed Newark shook the Presteign mansion with an unbelievable quake. Floors and walls shuddered and the guests were thrown in heaps along with furniture and decorations. Quake followed quake as the random shower descended around New York. They were deafening, numbing, chilling. The sounds, the shocks, the flares of lurid light on the horizon were so enormous, that reason was stripped from humanity, leaving nothing but flayed animals to shriek, cower, and run. Within the space of five seconds Presteign's New Year party was transformed from elegance into anarchy.
Foyle arose from the floor. He looked at the struggling bodies on the ballroom parquet, saw Jisbella fighting to free herself, took a step toward her and then stopped. He revolved his head, dazedly, feeling it was no part of him. The thunder never ceased. He saw Robin Wednesbury in the reception hail, reeling and battered. He took a step toward her and then stopped again. He knew where he must go.
He accelerated. The thunder and lightning dropped down the spectrum to grinding and flickering. The shuddering quakes turned into greasy undulations. Foyle blurred through the giant house, searching, until at last he found her, standing in the garden, standing tiptoe on a marble bench looking like a marble statue to his accelerated senses . . . the statue of exaltation.
He decelerated. Sensation leaped up the spectrum again and once more he was buffeted by that bigger-than-death size bombardment.
«Lady Olivia,» he called.
«Who is that?»
«The clown.»
«Fourmyle?»
«Yes.»
«And you came searching for me? I'm touched, really touched.»
«You're insane to be standing out here like this. I beg you to let me…”
«No, no, no. It's beautiful. . . Magnificent!»
«Let me jaunte with you to some place that's safe.»
«Mi, you see yourself as a knight in armor? Chivalry to the rescue. It doesn't suit you, my dear. You haven't the flair for it. You'd best go.»
«I'll stay.»
«As a beauty lover?»
«As a lover.»
«You're still tedious, Fourmyle. Come, be inspired. This is Armageddon Flowering Monstrosity. Tell me what you see.»
«There's nothing much,» he answered, looking around and wincing. «There's light all over the horizon. Quick clouds of it. Above, there's a sort of sparkling effect. Like Christmas lights twinkling.»
«Oh, you see so little with your eyes.