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Crichton Michael - Timeline Timeline

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оксана2018-11-27
Вообще, я больше люблю новинки литератур
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Professor2018-11-27
Очень понравилась книга. Рекомендую!
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Vera.Li2016-02-21
Миленько и простенько, без всяких интриг
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ст.ст.2018-05-15
 И что это было?
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Наталья222018-11-27
Сюжет захватывающий. Все-таки читать кни
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Timeline - Crichton Michael - Страница 30


30
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And he threw the door open.

Kate and the others had been left alone in a plain, bare conference room - scratched Formica table, folding chairs all around. On one side was a large markerboard with formulas scrawled on it. The formulas were so long that they ran the entire width of the board. It was completely mysterious to her. She was about to ask Stern what the formulas were for, when Robert Doniger swept into the room.

Kate was surprised by how young he was. He didn't look much older than they were, especially dressed in sneakers, jeans and a Quicksilver T-shirt. Even late at night, he seemed full of energy, going around the table quickly, shaking hands with each of them, addressing them by name. "Kate," he said, smiling at her. "Good to meet you. I've read your preliminary study on the chapel. It's very impressive."

Surprised, she managed to say, "Thank you," but Doniger had already moved on.

"And Chris. It's nice to see you again. I like the computer-simulation approach to that mill bridge; I think it will pay off."

Chris had time only to nod before Doniger was saying, "And David Stern. We haven't met. But I gather you're also a physicist, as I am."

"That's right…"

"Welcome aboard. And Andre. Not getting any shorter! Your paper on the tournaments of Edward I certainly set Monsieur Contamine straight. Good work. So: please, all of you, please sit down."

They sat, and Doniger moved to the head of the table.

"I will get right to the point," Doniger said. "I need your help. And I will tell you why. For the last ten years, my company has been developing a revolutionary new technology. It is not a technology of war. Nor is it a commercial technology, to be sold for profit. On the contrary, it is an entirely benign and peaceful technology that will provide a great benefit to mankind. A great benefit. But I need your help."

"Consider for a moment," Doniger continued, "how unevenly technology has impacted the various fields of knowledge in the twentieth century. Physics employs the most advanced technology - including accelerator rings many miles in diameter. The same with chemistry and biology. A hundred years ago, Faraday and Maxwell had tiny private labs. Darwin worked with a notebook and a microscope. But today, no important scientific discovery could be made with such simple tools. The sciences are utterly dependent on advanced technology. But what about the humanities? During this same time, what has happened to them?"

Doniger paused, rhetorically. "The answer is, nothing. There has been no significant technology. The scholar of literature or history works exactly as his predecessors did a hundred years before. Oh, there have been some minor changes in authentication of documents, and the use of CD-ROMs, and so forth. But the basic, day-to-day work of the scholar is exactly the same."

He looked at each of them in turn. "So we have an inequity. The fields of human knowledge are unbalanced. Medieval scholars are proud that in the twentieth century their views have undergone a revolution. But physics has undergone three revolutions in the same century. A hundred years ago, physicists argued about the age of the universe and the source of the sun's energy. No one on earth knew the answers. Today, every schoolchild knows. Today, we have seen the length and breadth of the universe, we understand it from the level of galaxies to the level of subatomic particles. We have learned so much that we can speak in detail about what happened during the first few minutes of the birth of the exploding universe. Can medieval scholars match this advance within their own field? In a word, no. Why not? Because no new technology assists them. No one has ever developed a new technology for the benefit of historians - until now."

A masterful performance, Gordon thought. One of Doniger's best - charming, energetic, even excessive at moments. Yet the fact was, Doniger had just given them an exciting explanation for the project - without ever revealing its true purpose. Without ever telling them what was really going on.

"But I told you I needed your help. And I do."

Doniger's mood changed. He spoke slowly now, somber, concerned. "You know that Professor Johnston came here to see us because he thought we were withholding information. And in a way, we were. We did have certain information that we hadn't shared, because we couldn't explain how we got it."

And, Gordon thought, because Kramer screwed up.

"Professor Johnston pushed us," Doniger was saying. "I'm sure you know his way. He even threatened to go to the press. Finally we showed him the technology we are about to show you. And he was excited - just as you will be. But he insisted on going back, to see for himself."

Doniger paused. "We didn't want him to go. Again, he threatened. In the end, we had no choice but to let him go. That was three days ago. He is still back there. He asked you for help, in a message he knew you would find. You know that site and time better than anyone else in the world. You have to go back and get him. You are his only chance."

"What exactly happened to him after he went back?" Marek said.

"We don't know," Doniger said. "But he broke the rules."

"Rules?"

"You have to understand that this technology is still very new. We've been cautious about how we use it. We have been sending observers back for about two years now - using ex-marines, trained military people. But of course they are not historians, and we have kept them on a tight leash."

"Meaning what?"

"We haven't ever let our observers enter the world back there. We haven't allowed anyone to stay longer than an hour. And we haven't allowed anyone to go more than fifty yards from the machine. Nobody has ever just left the machine behind and gone off into the world."

"But the Professor did?" Marek said.

"He must have, yes."

"And we'll have to, too, if we're going to find him. We'll have to enter the world."

"Yes," Doniger said.

"And you're saying we're the first people ever to do this? The first people ever to step into the world?"

"Yes. You, and the Professor before you."

Silence.

Suddenly, Marek broke into a broad grin. "Terrific," he said. "I can't wait!"

But the others said nothing. They looked uneasy, edgy.

Stern said, "About this guy they found in the desert…"

"Joe Traub," Doniger said. "He was one of our best scientists."

"What was he doing in the desert?"

"Apparently, he drove there. They found his car. But we don't know why he went."

Stern said, "Supposedly, he was all messed up, there was something about his fingers…"

"That wasn't in the autopsy report," Doniger said. "He died of a heart attack."

"Then his death had nothing to do with your technology?"

"Nothing at all," Doniger said.

There was another silence. Chris shifted in his chair. "In layman's terms - how safe is this technology?"

"Safer than driving your car," Doniger said without hesitation. "You will be thoroughly briefed, and we'll send you back with our experienced observers. The trip will last a maximum of two hours. You'll just go back and get him."

Chris Hughes drummed his fingers on the table. Kate bit her lip. Nobody spoke.

"Look, this is all voluntary," Doniger said. "It's entirely up to you whether you go or not. But the Professor has asked for your help. And I don't think you would let him down."

"Why don't you just send the observers?" Stern said.

"Because they don't know enough, David. As you're aware, it's an entirely different world back there. You have the advantage of your knowledge. You know the site, and you know the time, in detail. You know languages and customs."

"But our knowledge is academic," Chris said.

"Not anymore," Doniger said.

The group filed out of the room, heading off with Gordon to see the machines. Doniger watched them go, then turned as Kramer entered the room. She had been watching everything on the closed-circuit television.