（外文电子版资料）John Christopher - Socrates.pdf

Socrates John Christopher I HAD closed the lab for the afternoon and was walking down toward the front gate, meaning to take a bus into town, when I heard the squeals from the direction of the caretaker’s cottage. I’m fond of animals and hate to hear them in pain, so I walked through the gate into the cottage yard. What I saw horrified me. Jennings, the caretaker, was holding a young puppy in his hand and beating its head against the stone wall. At his feet were three dead puppies, and as I came through the gate he tossed a fourth among them, and picked up the last squirming remnant of the litter. I called out sharply, “Jennings ! What’s going on ?” He turned to face me, still holding the puppy in his hand. He is a surly-looking fellow at best, but now he looked thunderous. “What the hell do you think I’m doing ?” he demanded. “Killing off a useless litter—that’s what I’m doing.” He held the pup out for me to observe. “Here,” he went on, “have a look at this and you’ll see why.” I looked closely. It was the queerest pup I had ever seen. It had a dirty, tan coat and abnormally thick legs. But it was the head that drew attention. It must have been fully four times the size of any ordinary pup of its breed; so big that, although its neck was sturdy, the head seemed to dangle on it like an apple on a stalk. “It’s a queer one, all right,” I admitted. “Queer?” he exclaimed. “It’s a monster, that’s what it is.” He looked at me angrily. “And I know the cause of it. I’m not a fool. There was a bit in the Sunday papers a couple of weeks back about it. It’s them electrical X-ray machines you have up at the house. It said in the paper about X-rays being able to influence what’s to be born and make monsters of them. And look at this for a litter of pedigree airedales; not one that would make even a respectable mongrel. Thirty quid the price of this litter at the very least.”