Читать книгу The Science Fiction Anthology онлайн
407 страница из 776
“Low-life con men. And the world you live on is not the one you were born on. I will join you if I may.”
“Oeg, you have a talent for going to the core of the apple.”
For when a man (however unlikely a man) shows real talent, then the Wreckville bunch has to recruit him. They cannot have uncontrolled talent running loose in the commonalty of mankind.
With These Hands, by C.M. Kornbluth
I
Halvorsen waited in the Chancery office while Monsignor Reedy disposed of three persons who had preceded him. He was a little dizzy with hunger and noticed only vaguely that the prelate’s secretary was beckoning to him. He started to his feet when the secretary pointedly opened the door to Monsignor Reedy’s inner office and stood waiting beside it.
The artist crossed the floor, forgetting that he had leaned his portfolio against his chair, remembered at the door and went back for it, flushing. The secretary looked patient.
“Thanks,” Halvorsen murmured to him as the door closed.
There was something wrong with the prelate’s manner.