Межзвёздный скиталец
Chapter 11
Now,mybodywassoneartobeingentirelydeadthatIknewinallabsolutenessthatbyaquickconcentrationofwillontheyet-alivepatchofmytorsoit,too,wouldceasetobe.But—andherewastheproblem,andMorrellhadnotwarnedme:shouldIalsowillmyheadtobedead?IfIdidso,nomatterwhatbefellthespiritofDarrellStanding,wouldnotthebodyofDarrellStandingbeforeverdead?
Ichancedthechestandtheslow-beatingheart.Thequickcompulsionofmywillwasrewarded.Inolongerhadchestnorheart.Iwasonlyamind,asoul,aconsciousness—callitwhatyouwill—incorporateinanebulousbrainthat,whileitstillcentredinsidemyskull,wasexpanded,andwascontinuingtoexpand,beyondmyskull.
Andthen,withflashingsoflight,Iwasoffandaway.AtaboundIhadvaultedprisonroofandCaliforniasky,andwasamongthestars.Isay“stars”advisedly.Iwalkedamongthestars.Iwasachild.Iwascladinfrail,fleece-like,delicate-colouredrobesthatshimmeredinthecoolstarlight.Theserobes,ofcourse,werebaseduponmyboyhoodobservanceofcircusactorsandmyboyhoodconceptionofthegarbofyoungangels.
Nevertheless,thusclad,Itrodinterstellarspace,exaltedbytheknowledgethatIwasboundonvastadventure,where,attheend,Iwouldfindallthecosmicformulæandhavemadecleartometheultimatesecretoftheuniverse.InmyhandIcarriedalongglasswand.
