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Фред Хойл: October the First Is Too Late

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Фред Хойл October the First Is Too Late

October the First Is Too Late: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Renowned scientist John Sinclair and his old school friend Richard, a celebrated composer, are enjoying a climbing expedition in the Scottish Highlands when Sinclair disappears without a trace for thirteen hours. When he resurfaces with no explanation for his disappearance, he has undergone an uncanny alteration: a birthmark on his back has vanished. But stranger events are yet to come: things are normal enough in Britain, but in France it’s 1917 and World War I is raging, Greece is in the Golden Age of Pericles, America seems to have reverted to the 18th century, and Russia and China are thousands of years in the future. Against this macabre backdrop of coexisting time spheres, the two young men risk their lives to unravel the truth. But truth is in the mind of the beholder, and who is to say which of these timelines is the ‘real’ one? In October the First Is Too Late (1966), world-famous astrophysicist Sir Fred Hoyle (1915–2001) explores fascinating concepts of time and consciousness in the form of a thrilling science fiction adventure that ranks among his very best. cite - Julian Jebb, Sunday Times cite - Kirkus Reviews

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‘There’s a hell of a lot to be done.’

‘I can’t see any point in having a directed beam of radiation—and this must be fantastically directional—unless it’s used for transmitting information.’

‘By whom, for God’s sake?’

‘How the devil should I know. The thing to do next is to look for some intrinsic form of modulation. We’ve got to filter out this effect of the interference fringes. Then we must look for some genuine source modulation.’

Quite spontaneously everybody began to consume strong drinks at a very rapid rate. In spite of their comparative reticence, John’s disclosures, simple as they might be, had produced a profound sense of shock. I didn’t understand what had been said with any great clarity so I suppose things weren’t as sharp to me as they were to the others. Yet I gathered that someone, or something, was using the Sun as a signalling device.

Chapter Four: Tempo di Minuetto

I lay awake for a little while that night. A remarkable conclusion had obviously been pieced together from the simplest fragments, like a crushing position in a chess game built by a master from a series of seemingly trifling moves. It was the pattern, the sequence, that really counted, not the intrinsic difficulty of any particular step. The data John had used were no doubt well known to hundreds of people, if not to thousands, but the relevant facts had been embedded in a million-and-one irrelevancies.

No doubt entirely due to chance I had become involved in a tremendous situation. It hardly needed special knowledge to understand the implication of what I had heard. Every single one of the men involved in tonight’s discussion had sought an alibi, either in understatement or in flippancy. They were trying to avoid the significance of the situation. Not of course permanently but to get themselves used to it by slow stages.

The following day I received a cheque for $1,500, paid on account, through the University of California. I turned it straightaway into travellers’ cheques. I hired a car from a local agency. The next two days I spent driving along the coast and into the back country. Possession of the car gave me a new dimension of freedom. The effects of the journey, particularly of the time switch, were passing off now. In short I was beginning to enjoy myself.

On the third day I was asked to present myself at ten thirty the following morning at such-and-such a building on the university campus. I was shown to a pleasant office overlooking the sea. It was rather like looking down from the Cornish cliffs, except the light was stronger here. John came in with a man of about fifty-five. I was asked to describe exactly what had happened on our trip to Scotland.

I gave a simple factual account, answered a few questions, and that was that. John went out with the man. A few minutes later he returned alone.

‘Sorry, Dick, I’ve been so much occupied. We’ll meet for dinner tonight. Not here, in Los Angeles. Let’s say half past six. You’ve got a car?’

I nodded.

He produced a map. ‘This is the place here, at the intersection of Wilshire and Santa Monica Boulevards.’

I drove to Los Angeles during the afternoon. It would have been quicker by the inland freeway but I decided to keep on the coast road through Long Beach. I wanted to see the various coastal places I had read about. They didn’t live up to my expectations. I was glad by the time I reached Santa Monica.

I wasn’t familiar with the district or with the traffic conditions. Yet it was less bewildering than I would have expected. Without too much trouble I reached the restaurant. John was late but not grossly so. Yet to be late at all was unusual for him.

‘We’ll get away from science for one night,’ he said as we sat down at a table, which he had apparently booked beforehand.

‘I’ve been pretty hard at it ever since we got into New York. To be frank I’m damn tired.’

‘What’s the general pitch?’

‘Well, it’s obvious we need a new vehicle out there with special instrumentation. There’s nothing difficult in it at all. Not experimentally I mean. But it’s the devil to get anything unusual done. The whole space programme is going ahead like some enormous juggernaut. Only with the highest priority can you get anything changed.’

‘I suppose if you know exactly what you want to do that’s the most efficient way.’

‘If you know what you want to do, beforehand. Which of course means you’re not going to find anything of very much interest.’

‘Did you get your way?’

‘Yes, with Art’s help. We’ve been up at JPL—the Jet Propulsion Lab all day, arguing. Once they were convinced, everything went smoothly, but they took some convincing.’

‘When’s it going to happen?’

‘More or less immediately. A new vehicle was practically ready for launching. It was designed to go a long way out so it’s got pretty sensitive controls. It’ll do our job very easily. The problem is to get the right packages ready in time.’

‘The right black boxes?’

‘Yes. The lads will be working night and day on it. Here’s the point as it affects you. We’re going to use the big receiving dish out in Hawaii. It’s out in the islands because there’s not much man-made interference. Would you like a trip?’

I said I’d be delighted to make a trip to Hawaii. Then a waiter bore down on our table with a multitude of dishes.

Conversation was somewhat spasmodic for the next half-hour. The meal, an excellent one, deserved justice.

Over the coffee I asked, ‘Is this Hawaii trip a joy ride or is it strictly necessary?’

‘Not strictly, if by that you mean absolutely essential. But well worthwhile from my point of view. We’ll get the data hot off the line. Art’s coming with us. The station on Hawaii is his show.’

‘When do we take off?’

‘I was planning to travel the day after tomorrow. But there’s no reason why you shouldn’t go on earlier if you want to. By the way I’ve got an invitation for tonight.’

‘More science?’

‘God forbid, I’m in need of a rest. This is a friend of a friend of a friend, out in Beverly Hills. We can always leave early if we get bored.’

‘Where are you staying?’

‘I’ve got a motel back in Pasadena. You might as well stay over here by the sea though, it’s quite a bit cooler.’

‘Then I suppose I’d better find a place before we go to Beverly Hills.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t bother. The motels are open all night. You can get one any time. Besides you never know where you’ll end up.’

On this remark John paid the bill. We went out to the parking place.

‘You’d better follow me, we might as well take both cars. I’m not exactly sure of where to go but I know the general direction.’

I kept faithfully on John’s tail through a succession of boulevards and streets. Then we were in a twisting mass of side-roads among large houses. We both came to a halt. John was muttering imprecations. It seemed he was more disturbed by not being able to find the place than he had been by the scientific situation. We started off again. After two more tries we at last drew up outside a prosperous looking domicile. A dozen cars were parked in the roadway outside. Inside, a good-looking woman pressed two large drinks on us, with a welcoming smile, and no questions asked.

We pushed our way into a large room. Perhaps thirty people were in there, talking loudly. I had the impression it would have been possible for almost anybody to have walked in.

In the general bedlam of a cocktail party I am lucky to have something of an advantage over my fellow men. My hearing is abnormally acute so I can still make out what is being said at a stage where the average person is pretty well deafened. I plunged fairly confidently into the morass.

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