Читаем The Mote in God's Eye полностью

“Well, there’s no harm in their being there,” Dr. Horvath said. “But they do take up room the scientific staff could use.”

“In other words, no,” Rod said. “Fine. I’ll let you decide which of your people to replace them with, Dr. Horvath. Next point: Do you need Marines?”

“Good heavens, no,” Sally protested. She looked quickly to Horvath, who nodded. “Captain, the Moties are so far from being hostile, they’ve built the Castle for us. It’s magnificent! Why can’t you come down and see it?”

Rod laughed bitterly. “Admiral’s orders. For that matter, I can’t let any officer who knows how to construct a Langston Field go down.” He nodded to himself. “The Admiral and I agree on one point: If you do need help, two Marines won’t be any use—and giving the Moties a chance to work that Fyunch(click) thing on a pair of warriors doesn’t seem like a good idea. That brings up the next point. Dr. Horvath, is Mr. Renner satisfactory to you? Perhaps I should ask him to leave the room while you reply.”

“Nonsense. Mr. Renner has been very helpful. Captain, does your restriction apply to my people? Am I forbidden to take, say, a physicist to Mote Prime?”

“Yes.”

“But Dr. Buckman is counting on going. The Moties have been studying Murcheson’s Eye and the Coal Sack for a long time… how long, Mr. Potter?”

The midshipman squirmed uncomfortably before answering. “Thousands of years, sir,” he said finally. “Only…”

“Only what, Mister?” Rod prompted. Potter was a bit shy, and he’d have to outgrow that. “Speak up.”

“Yes, sir. There are gaps in their observations, Captain. The Moties hae never mentioned the fact, but Dr. Buckman says it is obvious. I would hae said they sometimes lose interest in astronomy, but Dr. Buckman can nae understand that.”

“He wouldn’t,” Rod laughed. “Just how important are those observations, Mr. Potter?”

“For astrophysics, perhaps verra important, Captain. They hae been watching yon supergiant for aye their history as it passed across the Coal Sack. ‘Twill go supernova and then become a black hole—and the Moties say they know when.”

Midshipman Whitbread laughed. Everyone turned to stare at him. Whitbread could hardly control his features. “Sorry, sir—but I was there when Gavin told Buckman about that. The Eye will explode in A.D. 2,774,020 on April 27 between four and four-thirty in the morning, they say. I thought Dr. Buckman was going to strangle himself. Then he started doing his own checking. It took him thirty hours—”

Sally grinned. “And he almost killed the Fyunch(click) doing it,” she added. “Had Dr. Horvath’s Motie translating for him when his own came apart.”

“Yes, but he found out they were right,” Whitbread told them. The midshipman cleared his throat and mimicked Buckman’s dry voice. “Damned close, Mr. Potter. I’ve got the mathematics and observations to prove it.”

“You’re developing a talent for acting, Mr. Whitbread,” First Lieutenant Cargill said. “Pity your work in astrogation doesn’t show a similar improvement. Captain, it seems to me that Dr. Buckman can get everything he needs here. There’s no reason for him to go to the Motie planet.”

“Agreed. Dr. Horvath, the answer is no. Besides—do you really want to spend a week cooped up with Buckman? You needn’t answer that,” he added quickly. “Whom will you take?”

Horvath frowned for a moment. “De Vandalia, I suppose.”

“Yes, please,” Sally said quickly. “We need a geologist. I’ve tried digging for rock samples, and I didn’t learn a thing about the make-up of Mote Prime. There’s nothing but ruins made up of older ruins.”

“You mean they don’t have rocks?” Cargill asked.

“They have rocks, Commander,” she answered. “Granite and lava and basalts, but they aren’t where whatever formed this planet put them. They’ve all been used, for walls, or tiles, or roofs. I did find cores in a museum, but I can’t make much sense out of them.”

“Now wait a minute,” said Rod. “You mean you go out and dig at random, and wherever you dig you find what’s left of a city? Even out in the farm lands?”

“Well, there wasn’t time for many digs. But where I did dig, there was always something else underneath. I never knew when to stop! Captain, there was a city like A.D. 2000 New York under a cluster of adobe huts without plumbing. I think they had a civilization that collapsed, perhaps two thousand years ago.”

“That would explain the observation lapses,” Rod said. “But—they seem brighter than that. Why would they let a civilization collapse?” He looked to Horvath, who shrugged.

“I have an idea,” Sally said. “The contaminants in the air—wasn’t there a problem with pollution from internal combustion engines on Earth sometime during the CoDominium? Suppose the Moties had a civilization based on fossil fuels and ran out? Mightn’t they have dropped back into an Iron Age before they developed fusion power and plasma physics again? They seem to be awfully short on radioactive ores.”

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Ох как непросто быть попаданцем – чужой мир, вокруг всё незнакомо и непонятно, пугающе. Помощи ждать неоткуда. Всё приходится делать самому. И нет конца этому марафону. Как та белка в колесе, пищи, но беги. На голову землянина свалилось столько приключений, что врагу не пожелаешь. Успел найти любовь – и потерять, заимел серьёзных врагов, его убивали – и он убивал, чтобы выжить. Выбирать не приходится. На фоне происходящих событий ещё острее ощущается тоска по дому. Где он? Где та тропинка к родному порогу? Придётся очень постараться, чтобы найти этот путь. Тяжёлая задача? Может быть. Но куда деваться? Одному бодаться против целого мира – не вариант. Нужно приспосабливаться и продолжать двигаться к поставленной цели. По-кошачьи – на мягких лапах. Но горе тому, кто примет эту мягкость за чистую монету.

Данильченко Олег Викторович , Олег Викторович Данильченко

Фантастика / Самиздат, сетевая литература / Боевая фантастика / Космическая фантастика / Попаданцы