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The Prophet
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Текст книги "The Prophet"


Автор книги: Henry Lion Oldie



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Henry Lion Oldie
The Prophet

* * *

"Arise, oh prophet, hark and see,

Perform that will o'mine!

And wandering through lands and seas

Burn hearts by verbal fire."

A. S. Pushkin

Antisthenes took the test-tube and examined the fluid against the light. The elixir was dark-golden, thick, resembling old Tokay. Was this the one or not? Hope, Antishpenus' eternal companion, cried yes, it was! But scepticism – the invariable burden of a scientist – demanded a

trial. Antishpenus came up to the old table, corroded by acids and charred in some places, took a flask with reagent. At that very moment came a demanding knock on the door. He knew that would happen, sooner or later, but... oh no, not now! Too much pain. The knock was getting more

and more persistent.

Antisthenes came to with a startle. The door would stand no longer than two minutes. He should act. Feverishly he grabbed a pile of tattered papers with formulae, figures and designs, and tossed them into the fireplace. Then the papers from the drawer went flying into the fire. What else? The apparatus! Antisthenes grasped the poker and, his eyes closed, swung and struck the entanglement of coil pipes, filters, boiling retorts, and copper wires. Something hissed letting out clouds of smoke. The upper lock on the door went off, the bar hardly holding on. Antisthenes struck once more, then again... It seemed to him he was breaking his own ribs. Well, that was all. Perhaps, he still had time to escape? Antisthenes darted for the window when his look fell on the test-tube he was still squeezing in his hand. The elixir? Or poison?.. Didn't matter now – and in a gulp he drained the tube. The liquid had an acrid taste with some elusive flavor, breathtaking, giving pressure to his temples.

For a second he stood listening to what was going on inside him. Whatever the test-tube had contained would not take effect instantly. Antishpenus tossed the tube into fire. The next second the hinges gave in and the door collapsed smashing the remains of the apparatus. Guardsmen broke into the room. It was too late to run. He didn't notice the coming blow and the room growing dark swam before his eyes...

The Dictator, rosy-cheeked and clean-shaven, sitting at the bulky oak table of antique artwork, was smiling. In the whole huge hall, with columns and a vaulted ceiling with stucco ornaments, there was nothing except that table. Upon it there was a telephone and a shabby office folder. Antisthenes kept silent looking in the face so familiar by newspaper clips and TV shows. The bruised lip hurt, his tongue was involuntarily feeling the hole in the place of a knocked-out tooth, but in general he got off quite lightly.

The Dictator kept silence, which was playing into his hands – that's why Antisthenes spoke first.

"What do you want from me?"

The Dictator kept silence.

"By what right, after all?.."

The Dictator kept silence.

"What do you want from me?!" – Antisthenes burst out shouting.

"The elixir," – the Dictator uttered very quietly, his lips hardly

...

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