Well, of course, the organisms I have obtained are bigger than usual. And they do have some new properties. But the main thing is not the size, but the incredible speed of reproduction," Persikov heard himself say to his utmost dismay.
Having filled up a whole page, the young man turned over and went on scribbling.
"Don't write it down!" Persikov croaked in despair, realising that he was in the young man's hands. "What are you writing?"
"Is it true that in forty-eight hours you can hatch two million tadpoles from frog-spawn?"
"From how much spawn?" exploded Persikov, losing his temper again. "Have you ever seen the spawn of a tree-frog, say?"
"From half-a-pound?" asked the young man, unabashed.
Persikov flushed with anger.
"Whoever measures it like that?
Pah!
What are you talking about?
Of course, if you were to take half-a-pound of frog-spawn, then perhaps... Well, about that much, damn it, but perhaps a lot more!"
Diamonds flashed in the young man's eyes, as he filled up yet another page in one fell swoop.
"Is it true that this will cause a world revolution in animal husbandry?"
"Trust the press to ask a question like that," Persikov howled. "I forbid you to write such rubbish.
I can see from your face that you're writing sheer nonsense!"
"And now, if you'd be so kind, Professor, a photograph of you," said the young man, closing his note-pad with a snap.
"What's that?
A photograph of me?
To put in those magazines of yours?
Together with all that diabolical rubbish you've been scribbling down.
No, certainly not... And I'm extremely busy. I really must ask you to..."
"Any old one will do.
And we'll return it straightaway."
"Pankrat!" the Professor yelled in a fury.
"Your humble servant," said the young man and vanished.
Instead of Pankrat came the strange rhythmic scraping sound of something metallic hitting the floor, and into the laboratory rolled a man of unusual girth, dressed in a blouse and trousers made from a woollen blanket.
His left, artificial leg clattered and clanked, and he was holding a briefcase.
The clean-shaven round face resembling yellowish meat-jelly was creased into a welcoming smile.
He bowed in military fashion to the Professor and drew himself up, his leg giving a springlike snap.
Persikov was speechless.
"My dear Professor," the stranger began in a pleasant, slightly throaty voice, "forgive an ordinary mortal for invading your seclusion."
"Are you a reporter?" Persikov asked. "Pankrat!"
"Certainly not, dear Professor," the fat man replied. "Allow me to introduce myself-naval captain and contributor to the Industrial Herald, newspaper of the Council of People's Commissars."
"Pankrat!" cried Persikov hysterically, and at that very moment a red light went on in the corner and the telephone rang softly. "Pankrat!" the Professor cried again. "Hello."
"Verzeihen Sie bitte, Herr Professor," croaked the telephone in German, "das ich store.
Ich bin Mitarbeiter des Berliner Tageblatts..."
"Pankrat!" the Professor shouted down the receiver. "Bin momental sehr beschaftigt und kann Sie deshalb jetzt nicht empfangen.
Pankrat!"
And just at this moment the bell at the main door started ringing.
"Terrible murder in Bronnaya Street!" yelled unnaturally hoarse voices, darting about between wheels and flashing headlights on the hot June roadway. "Terrible illness of chickens belonging to the priest's widow Drozdova with a picture of her!
Terrible discovery of life ray by Professor Persikov!"
Persikov dashed out so quickly that he almost got run over by a car in Mokhovaya and grabbed a newspaper angrily.
"Three copecks, citizen!" cried the newsboy, squeezing into the crowd on the pavement and yelling:
"Red Moscow Evening News, discovery of X-ray!"
The flabbergasted Persikov opened the newspaper and huddled against a lamp-post.
On page two in the left-hand corner a bald man with crazed, unseeing eyes and a hanging lower jaw, the fruit of Alfred Bronsky's artistic endeavours, stared at him from a smudged frame.
The caption beneath it read: "V I. Persikov who discovered the mysterious ray."
Lower down, under the heading World-Wide Enigma was an article which began as follows: "'Take a seat,' the eminent scientist Persikov invited me hospitably..."
The article was signed with a flourish
"Alfred Bronsky (Alonso)".