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The Science Fiction Anthology. Филип Дик
Читать онлайн.Название The Science Fiction Anthology
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isbn 9782378078522
Автор произведения Филип Дик
Жанр Языкознание
Издательство Bookwire
“The first few days they were exceedingly hostile, and tried to tear us to pieces. When they could not do this, word was sent to some of their more learned members, and we were investigated. By the use of extra menores we had brought with us, we established a contact with their minds; first by the usual process of impressing pictures of our thoughts upon their minds, and later by more direct process.”
“I will say nothing of the great scientific value of our discoveries, for you would neither understand nor appreciate them—although they will set the scientific universe agog,” continued Tipene, his eyes gleaming suddenly with a triumphant light. “As we perfected communication, we convinced them that we were friendly, and we gained their complete confidence.
“They are a very ancient race. Very slowly have they come to their present stage of mental development, but they now possess reasoning faculties, a language—and a form of community government. There is much more, which, as I have said, would be of no significance to you.
“And then word came that beings like ourselves had attacked and killed many of the Aranians. The news had traveled slowly, for their system of communication is crude, but it reached the community center in which we were staying.
“Instantly, all was hostility. They felt they had been betrayed, and that we might betray them. Brady and Inverness, always rash and thoughtless, had discarded their protective suits, feeling sure they were perfectly safe, and they were torn to pieces.
“I, having a more scientific and cautious mind, doubting everything as a true scientific mind must, still wore my armor. By the liberal use of my pistol, I managed to fight my way to the surface, and to the boat. And now, Commander Hanson, will you start back, as I have ordered?”
I don’t know what I would have said if I had not caught a peculiar glance from Correy, a glance accompanied by a significant, momentary closing of one eye (a gesture of Earth which means many things, and which is impossible to explain) and a slight nod.
“Very well, Mr. Tipene,” I said shortly. “We’ll start at once. Gentlemen, will you join me in the navigating room?”
Correy was the last to arrive in the navigating room, and when he came in his eyes were dancing.
“I’ve just transferred Tipene to another stateroom, sir,” he said. “A specially equipped stateroom.”
“You what?”
“If you’ll give orders, sir, for an immediate start, I’ll tell you all about it,” chuckled Correy. “Tipene says he’s worn out, and is going to retire as soon as we start. And when he does—we’ll learn something.”
I nodded to Kincaide, and he gave the general attention signal. In a few seconds the outer sentry was recalled, and the exit port had been sealed. Slowly, the Ertak lifted.
“Maybe I’m wrong, sir,” said Correy then, “but I’m convinced that Tipene is lying. Something’s wrong; he was in altogether too much of a hurry to get away.
“So, before I transferred him to the other stateroom, I concealed a menore under the mattress of his bunk, immediately under where his head will lie. It’s adjusted to full strength, and I believe it will pick up enough energy to emanate what he’s thinking about. We’ll be in the next stateroom and see what we can pick up. How does that sound, sir?”
“Like something you’d cook up, Mr. Correy!” I said promptly. “And I believe, as you do, that if it works at all, we’ll find out something interesting.”
We equipped ourselves with menores, adjusted to maximum power, and silently filed into the stateroom adjacent to Tipene’s.
He was moving about slowly, apparently undressing, for we heard first one boot and then another drop to the floor. And we could sense vague emanations, too faint to be intelligible, and unmistakably coming from him.
“Probably sitting on the edge of his bunk,” whispered Correy. “When he lies down, it’ll work like a charm!”
It did—almost too well. Suddenly we caught a strong emanation, in the Universal language.
“Surly individual, that Hanson—didn’t like my giving orders—hurt his dignity. But I had my own way, and that’s all that’s important. Seemed to be suspicious—they all were. Maybe I was a bit urgent—but I was afraid—those damned Aranians might have changed their spidery minds.
“They can’t be very intelligent—to think I’d come back with tribute to pay for the spiders that fool Hanson and his men killed. Why, the ship’s rays could wipe them all out, drill a hole in the ground—they didn’t realize that. Thought that by holding Brady and that conceited Inverness for hostages, they’d be safe—and I’d be idiotic enough to not see this chance to get all the glory of the expedition for myself—instead of sharing it with those two. You’re a quick thinker, Tipene—the true, ruthless, scientific mind....”
I motioned for my officers to follow me, and we made our way, silent and grim-faced, to the navigating room.
“Nice, friendly lad, isn’t he?” snarled Correy. “I thought there was something up. What are your plans, sir?”
“We’ll go to the rescue of Inverness and Brady, of course. Mr. Correy, place Tipene under arrest, and bring him here at once. Mr. Kincaide, take over the ship; give orders to set her down where we were. And you, Mr. Hendricks, will take personal command of the forward ray tubes.”
My officers sprang to obey orders, and I paced restlessly up and down the room, thinking. Just as the Ertak settled softly to earth, Correy returned with his prisoner. Two men stood on guard with drawn atomic pistols at the door.
“What’s the meaning of this indignity, sir?” flared Tipene. He had dressed hurriedly, and was by no means an imposing spectacle. He drew himself up to his full height, and tried to look domineering, but there was fear in his eyes. “I shall report you—”
“You’ll do no reporting, Tipene,” I broke in coldly. “I’ll do the reporting. You see, we know all about your little plan to desert your comrades, held by the Aranians as hostages, and to grasp all the glory of your findings for yourself. But—the plan doesn’t work. We’re going back.”
Tipene’s face drained a dirty yellow—a Zenian can never be actually pale.
“You ... how....” he floundered.
“A menore, under your pillow,” I explained crisply. “But that doesn’t matter, now. You will guide us to the spot where you found the Aranian city, and establish communication with the Aranians. When that’s done, I’ll give you further orders.”
“And if I won’t?” breathed Tipene, his teeth clenched in a shaking rage.
“But you will. Otherwise, we’ll permit you to continue your explorations on this interesting little sphere—minus your protective suit.”
Tipene stared at me with horror-stricken eyes. I think he saw that I meant exactly what I said—and I was not bluffing.
“I—I’ll do it,” he said.
“Then watch the river carefully,” I ordered. “Kincaide, lift her just enough so we can get a good view of the river. Tipene will tell you where to set her down.”
Navigating visually, Kincaide followed the winding course of the river, covering in a few minutes a distance it had taken the scientists a day to navigate.
“There—there is the place,” said Tipene suddenly. “Just this side of the patch of vegetation.”
“Very good. And remember what happens if you play any tricks,” I nodded grimly. “Descend to within a few yards of the ground, Mr. Kincaide; we’ll drop Tipene