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that the white crows you have - had - in your files mean that the white crow
I'm speculating about can't be ruled out. One guy calling off eighty Zehner
cards he can't see in a row without a mistake, say, opens it all up - it
doesn't mean much in itself, doesn't butter any parsnips as my stepmother used
to say, but if the laws of physics and probability don't hold for that, then
we're open to the possibility that they don't hold for what happened to your
files.'
Coogan looked at him dully. 'There's no reason, I suppose, that that couldn't
be so. Or maybe there is, but I can't think of one right now.'
'What I'm thinking,' Judd said, 'is that there's been another step. It always
happens. If any creature, even man, has some ability, some capacity, it's
eventually surpassed. Dinosaurs turn into birds. People, even without evolving
that drastically, change. Forty years ago, everybody knew you couldn't run the
mile in four minutes; thirty years ago, Roger Bannister did it; now high
school kids are doing it in local meets and the sports writers aren't even
giving it headlines. Well, I think maybe we've met up with some psychic who's
run his four-minute mile. And, of course, I may be crazy. Would you work with
me until we can make sure of it, one way or the other?'
Coogan looked at him for a long time before nodding her head.
'Good. I can use the DARPA facilities to get a lot of the material you had in
your files-'
103
'Not all,' she said, morosely, thinking of the bribe-obtained records that had
held so much of the most fascinating information.
Judd cocked an eye at her. Ah . . . where you can recall contacts and . . .
amounts . . . I believe we could do something along those lines as well.' He
was well aware of the shortcuts people in Coogan's position were apt to take.
She started, unsure that she should not be indignant at the implication, true
though it was, then relaxed into a smile. 'Ah. . . I guess that'd be a good
idea.'
'You'll have to sign a copy of the Official Secrets Act.'
'Yes, I suppose so. This is . . . if what you think is true, I can see it
would have to be kept quiet.'
Judd punched the intercom.
'Yes, sir,' Abrams answered promptly.
'Prepare a secrets oath for Dr Coogan. She'll be working with us for a while.'
'I'll have one drawn up pronto, sir.'
Judd surveyed the woman, who was busy with her own thoughts. He could
practically read them as they crossed her face in waves of disbelief, refusal
to accept, and suppressed fear.
'You know,' she said, 'if he exists as you say, it would be as if a very
ancient idea had become incarnate on Earth.'
'Oh? What would that be?'
'Sirius.'
'Sirius? The star?'
'Well, yes it is a star, a very bright star in the constellation of Canis
Major. It's from a Greek word meaning "sparkling" or "scorching". And the
Greeks considered it malign, dangerous. Let's see, if I recall correctly,
Pope's version of Homer, who referred to it, went something like "Terrific
glory! For his burning breath taints the red air with fevers, plagues, and
death."'
'Seems to fit well enough. I've got a strong feeling we've
already been scorched.' Judd handed her a copy of the Official Secrets Act
brought in by Abrams.
After she signed it, she sighed deeply. 'I don't even know where to start.'
Well, lets start with breakfast at the General Officers Club. It's not far
from here. And over a couple of bloody marys, which I think we both need, I'll
brief you on Project Tonopah and what's been going on with it.'
'I can't go to an officers' club dressed like this,' Coogan said firmly,
grasping the lapels of her khaki overalls.
'We'll think of some other place, then.'
They ended up on the outdoor deck of the Kennedy Centre for the Performing
Arts, where in a corner they occupied a secluded table and munched on hot dogs
liberally covered with mustard, which, they quickly discovered, was something
they both liked. After the hot dogs, they began consuming copious amounts of
black coffee, ferried to them from the self-service counter by Abrams.
The conversation lengthened. The sun crossed over its midpoint. Washington
stifled in the close mugginess, the Potomac nearly concealed in heat mist, the
Washington
Monument glistening in the distance.
'I've read Rhine and so on,' Judd began, 'and I know what you mean about the
kinds of things paranormal research has turned up. It doesn't really look like
that much, and all the really good stuff seems to turn out not to be
verifiable or beyond the possibility of fraud. You're left with things that go
well beyond statistical probability, but aren't outright impossible and
earth-shaking. But, look - if somebody had accidentally haywired together a
Geiger counter without knowing what it was a century ago, and wandered around
enough, he'd have picked up a lot of strange clicking all over the place.
Well, he wouldn't know what that clicking was, just that it didn't make sense
and should be looked into. But if you look into it enough, those [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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