Читать книгу The Food of the Gods / Пища богов. Книга для чтения на английском языке - Герберт Уэллс, Герберт Джордж Уэллс - Страница 3

The Food of the Gods I call it, this substance that Mr. Bensington and Professor Redwood made between them; and having regard now to what it has already done and all that it is certainly going to do, there is surely no exaggeration in the name. So I shall continue to call it therefore throughout my story. But Mr. Bensington would no more have called it that in cold blood than he would have gone out from his flat in Sloane Street clad in regal scarlet and a wreath of laurel. The phrase was a mere first cry of astonishment from him. He called it the Food of the Gods, in his enthusiasm and for an hour or so at the most altogether. After that he decided he was being absurd. When he first thought of the thing he saw, as it were, a vista of enormous possibilities – literally enormous possibilities; but upon this dazzling vista, after one stare of amazement, he resolutely shut his eyes, even as a conscientious “scientist” should. After that, the Food of the Gods sounded blatant to the pitch of indecency. He was surprised he had used the expression. Yet for all that something of that clear-eyed moment hung about him and broke out ever and again…

“Really, you know,” he said, rubbing his hands together and laughing nervously, “it has more than a theoretical interest.

“For example,” he confided, bringing his face close to the Professor’s and dropping to an undertone, “it would perhaps, if suitably handled, sell…

“Precisely,” he said, walking away, – “as a Food. Or at least a food ingredient.

“Assuming of course that it is palatable. A thing we cannot know till we have prepared it.”

He turned upon the hearthrug, and studied the carefully designed slits upon his cloth shoes.

“Name?” he said, looking up in response to an inquiry. “For my part I incline to the good old classical allusion. It – it makes Science rest. Gives it a touch of old-fashioned dignity. I have been thinking… I don’t know if you will think it absurd of me… A little fancy is surely occasionally permissible… Herakleophorbia. Eh? The nutrition of a possible Hercules? You know it might…

“Of course if you think not —”

Redwood reflected with his eyes on the fire and made no objection.

“You think it would do?”

Redwood moved his head gravely.

“It might be Titanophorbia, you know. Food of Titans… You prefer the former?”

“You’re quite sure you don’t think it a little too —” “No.”

“Ah! I’m glad.”

And so they called it Herakleophorbia throughout their investigations, and in their report, – the report that was never published, because of the unexpected developments that upset all their arrangements, – it is invariably written in that way. There were three kindred substances prepared before they hit on the one their speculations had foretolds and these they spoke of as Herakleophorbia I, Herakleophorbia II, and Herakleophorbia III. It is Herakleophorbia IV which I – insisting upon Bensington’s original name – call here the Food of the Gods.