The Collected Novels. Ray Cummings. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Ray Cummings
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
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isbn: 4064066310141
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my emotions, when all at once I remembered I was looking through a microscope. I had forgotten entirely my situation, absorbed in the scene before me. And then, abruptly, a great realization came upon me—the realization that everything I saw was inside that ring. I was unnerved for the moment at the importance of my discovery.

      "When I looked again, after the few moments my eye took to become accustomed to the new form of light, the scene showed itself as before, except that the girl had gone.

      "For over a week, each night at the same time I watched that cave. The girl came always, and sat by the pool as I had first seen her. Once she danced with the wild grace of a wood nymph, whirling in and out the shadows, and falling at last in a little heap beside the pool.

      "It was on the tenth night after I had first seen her that the accident happened. I had been watching, I remember, an unusually long time before she appeared, gliding out of the shadows. She seemed in a different mood, pensive and sad, as she bent down over the pool, staring into it intently. Suddenly there was a tremendous cracking sound, sharp as an explosion, and I was thrown backward upon the floor.

      "When I recovered consciousness—I must have struck my head on something—I found the microscope in ruins. Upon examination I saw that its larger lens had exploded—flown into fragments scattered around the room. Why I was not killed I do not understand. The ring I picked up from the floor; it was unharmed and unchanged.

      "Can I make you understand how I felt at this loss? Because of the war in Europe I knew I could never replace my lens—for many years, at any rate. And then, gentlemen, came the most terrible feeling of all; I knew at last that the scientific achievement I had made and lost counted for little with me. It was the girl. I realized then that the only being I ever could care for was living out her life with her world, and, indeed, her whole universe, in an atom of that ring."

      The Chemist stopped talking and looked from one to the other of the tense faces of his companions.

      "It's almost too big an idea to grasp," murmured the Doctor.

      "What caused the explosion?" asked the Very Young Man.

      "I do not know." The Chemist addressed his reply to the Doctor, as the most understanding of the group. "I can appreciate, though, that through that lens I was magnifying tremendously those peculiar light-radiations that I have described. I believe the molecules of the lens were shattered by them—I had exposed it longer to them that evening than any of the others."

      The Doctor nodded his comprehension of this theory.

      Impressed in spite of himself, the Banker took another drink and leaned forward in his chair. "Then you really think that there is a girl now inside the gold of that ring?" he asked.

      "He didn't say that necessarily," interrupted the Big Business Man.

      "Yes, he did."

      "As a matter of fact, I do believe that to be the case," said the Chemist earnestly. "I believe that every particle of matter in our universe contains within it an equally complex and complete a universe, which to its inhabitants seems as large as ours. I think, also that the whole realm of our interplanetary space, our solar system and all the remote stars of the heavens are contained within the atom of some other universe as gigantic to us as we are to the universe in that ring."

      "Gosh!" said the Very Young Man.

      "It doesn't make one feel very important in the scheme of things, does it?" remarked the Big Business Man dryly.

      The Chemist smiled. "The existence of no individual, no nation, no world, nor any one universe is of the least importance."

      "Then it would be possible," said the Doctor, "for this gigantic universe that contains us in one of its atoms, to be itself contained within the atom of another universe, still more gigantic, and so on."

      "That is my theory," said the Chemist.

      "And in each of the atoms of the rocks of that cave there may be other worlds proportionately minute?"

      "I can see no reason to doubt it."

      "Well, there is no proof, anyway," said the Banker. "We might as well believe it."

      "I intend to get proof," said the Chemist.

      "Do you believe all these innumerable universes, both larger and smaller than ours, are inhabited?" asked the Doctor.

      "I should think probably most of them are. The existence of life, I believe, is as fundamental as the existence of matter without life."

      "How do you suppose that girl got in there?" asked the Very Young Man, coming out of a brown study.

      "What puzzled me," resumed the Chemist, ignoring the question, "is why the girl should so resemble our own race. I have thought about it a good deal, and I have reached the conclusion that the inhabitants of any universe in the next smaller or larger plane to ours probably resemble us fairly closely. That ring, you see, is in the same—shall we say—environment as ourselves. The same forces control it that control us. Now, if the ring had been created on Mars, for instance, I believe that the universes within its atoms would be inhabited by beings like the Martians—if Mars has any inhabitants. Of course, in planes beyond those next to ours, either smaller or larger, changes would probably occur, becoming greater as you go in or out from our own universe."

      "Good Lord! It makes one dizzy to think of it," said the Big Business Man.

      "I wish I knew how that girl got in there," sighed the Very Young Man, looking at the ring.

      "She probably didn't," retorted the Doctor. "Very likely she was created there, the same as you were here."

      "I think that is probably so," said the Chemist. "And yet, sometimes I am not at all sure. She was very human." The Very Young Man looked at him sympathetically.

      "How are you going to prove your theories?" asked the Banker, in his most irritatingly practical way.

      The Chemist picked up the ring and put it on his finger. "Gentlemen," he said. "I have tried to tell you facts, not theories. What I saw through that ultramicroscope was not an unproven theory, but a fact. My theories you have brought out by your questions."

      "You are quite right," said the Doctor; "but you did mention yourself that you hoped to provide proof."

      The Chemist hesitated a moment, then made his decision. "I will tell you the rest," he said.

      "After the destruction of the microscope, I was quite at a loss how to proceed. I thought about the problem for many weeks. Finally I decided to work along another altogether different line—a theory about which I am surprised you have not already questioned me."

      He paused, but no one spoke.

      "I am hardly ready with proof to-night," he resumed after a moment. "Will you all take dinner with me here at the club one week from to-night?" He read affirmation in the glance of each.

      "Good. That's settled," he said, rising. "At seven, then."

      "But what was the theory you expected us to question you about?" asked the Very Young Man.

      The Chemist leaned on the back of his chair.

      "The only solution I could see to the problem," he said slowly, "was to find some way of making myself sufficiently small to be able to enter that other universe. I have found such a way and one week from to-night, gentlemen, with your assistance, I am going to enter the surface of that ring at the point where it is scratched!"

      CHAPTER II.

       INTO THE RING

       Table of Contents

      The cigars were lighted and dinner over before the Doctor broached the subject uppermost in the minds of every member of the party.

      "A toast, gentlemen," he said, raising his glass. "To the greatest research chemist in the world. May he be successful in