The Cyberiad by Stanislaw Lem & Michael Kandel & Daniel Mróz

Author:Stanislaw Lem & Michael Kandel & Daniel Mróz
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780141394602
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2014-01-20T05:00:00+00:00

And Trurl began to catch atoms, peeling their electrons and mixing their protons with such nimble speed, that his fingers were a blur, and he stirred the subatomic dough, stuck all the electrons back in, then on to the next molecule. In less than five minutes he was holding a nugget of the purest gold, which he presented to the face; it took a sniff and said with a nod:

‘Yes, that’s gold, but I’m too big to go running around like that after atoms.’

‘No problem, we’ll give you a suitable machine!’ coaxed Trurl. ‘Just think, this way you can turn anything into gold, not only hydrogen – we’ll give you the formula for other atoms, too. Why, one could make the entire Universe gold, if only he applied himself!’

‘If the Universe was gold, gold would be worthless,’ observed Pugg. ‘No, I have no use for your formula – I’ve written it down, yes, but that’s not enough! It’s the wealth of knowledge that I crave.’

‘But what do you want to know, for heaven’s sake?!’

‘Everything!’

Trurl looked at Klapaucius, Klapaucius looked at Trurl, and the latter finally said:

‘If first you will solemnly swear, up and down and cross your heart, that you will let us go, we will give you information, information about infinite information, that is, we will make you your very own Demon of the Second Kind, which is magical and thermodynamical, nonclassical and stochastical, and from any old barrel or even a sneeze it will extract information for you about everything that was, is, may be or ever will be. And there is no demon beyond this Demon, for it is of the Second Kind, and if you want it, say so now!’

The pirate with the Ph.D. was suspicious, and didn’t agree all at once to these conditions, but finally swore the required oath, with the stipulation that the Demon first give clear proof of its informational prowess. Which was fine with Trurl.

‘Now pay attention, big-face!’ he said. ‘Do you have any air knocking about? Without air the Demon won’t work.’

‘I have a little,’ said Pugg, ‘but it’s not too clean …’

‘Stale, stagnant, polluted, it doesn’t matter, not in the least,’ replied the constructors. ‘Lead us to it, and we’ll show you something!’

So he withdrew his face and let them leave the ship, and they followed him to his house, noticing that he had legs like towers, shoulders like a precipice, and hadn’t been washed for centuries, nor oiled, hence creaked something awful. They went down cellar corridors, with sacks moldering on every hand – in these the pirate kept his stolen facts – bunches and bundles of sacks, all tied with string, and the most important, valuable items marked in red pencil. On the wall hung an immense catalog, fastened to the rock by a rust-eaten chain and full of entries and headings, beginning, of course, with A. On they went, raising muffled echoes, and Trurl looked and grimaced, as did Klapaucius, for though there was plenty of

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