Forsyth Frederick Upior Manhattanu
Forsyth Frederick Falszerz
Asimov, Isaac Robot 08 Pebble In The Sky
Kornbluth Cyril Domek z kart
Frederik Pohl Heechee 2 Beyond the blue event horizon
Jason Frost The Warlord v1
Rachel Morgan 4 A Fistfull of Charms
Hardy Kate MiśÂośÂć na urodziny
Hitler Adolf mein kampf
Child_Composers
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"Well," Chuck said hesitantly, "there's a guy here named Flarney. He's a
pretty old son-of-a-gun by now, must be at least ninety, and he's been here a
good long tune. Dunno how long. But he talks crazy, just like you. No
offense," he added, "it's just that we all thought he'd gone space-happy.
But maybe we're wrong. Unless " his eyes narrowed "unless the two of you are
both space-happy, or trying to kid us, or something."
Ross said urgently, "I swear, Chuck, there's no such thing. It's true. Who's
this Flarney? Where does he say he came from?"
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"Who can make sense out of what tie says? All I know is, he talked a lot about
something faster than light. That's crazy; that's like saying slower than
dark, or bigger than green, or something.
But I don't know, maybe it means something."
"Believe me, Chuck, it does! Where is this man can I see him?"
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Chuck looked uncertain. "Well, sure. That is, you can see him all right. But
it isn't going to do you a whole hell of a lot of good, because he's dead.
Died yesterday; they're going to pitch him out into space sometime today."
Sam said, "This is when Whitker flips. One week without his old pal Flarney
and he'll begin to look funny. Two weeks and he starts acting funny. Three and
he's talking funny and the guards begin to crack down. I give him a month to
get shot down and heaved through the locker."
Old pal? Ross demanded, "Who's this Whitker? Where can I get in touch with
him?"
"Him and Flarney were both latrine orderlies. That's where they put the feeble
old men, mopping and polishing. Number Two head, any hour of the day or night.
Old buzzard has his racket we're supposed to get a hank of cellosponge per man
per day, but he's always 'fresh out' unless you slip him your saccharine
ration every once in a while."
Ross asked the way to Number Two head and the routine. But it was an hour
before he could bring himself to ask the hulking guard for permission.
"Sure, sonny," she boomed. "I'll show you the way. Need any help?"
"No, thanks, ma'am," he said hastily, and she roared with laughter. So did the
members of the construction gang; it must have been an ancient gag. He hurried
on his way thinking dark and bloody thoughts.
"Whitker?" he asked a tottering ancient who nodded and drowsed amid the
facilities of the head.
The old man looked up Wearily and squeaked: "Fresh out. Fresh out. You
should've saved some from yesterday."
"That's all right. I'm a new man here. I want to ask you about your friend
Flarney "
Whitker bowed his head and began to cry noiselessly.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Whitker. I heard. But there's something we can do about
it maybe. Flarney was a faster-than-light man. He must have told you that. So
am I. Ross, from Halsey's Planet."
He hadn't the faintest idea as to whether any of this was getting through to
the ancient.
"It seems Flarney and I were both on the same mission, finding out how and why
planets were dropping out of communication. You and he used to talk a lot,
they tell me. Did he ever tell you anything about that?"
Whitker looked up and squeaked dimly. "Oh, yes. All the tune. I humored him.
He was an old man, you know. And now he's dead." The tears leaked from his
rheumy eyes and traced the sad furrows beside his nose.
Was he getting through? "What did he say, Mr. Whitker? About
faster-than-light?"
The old man said, "L-sub-T equals L-sub-zero e to the minus T-over-two-N."
That damned formula again! "But what does it mean, Mr. Whitker? What did he
say it meant?" Ross softly urged.
The old man looked surprised. "Genes?" he asked himself hazily. "Generations?
I don't remember.
But you go to Earth, young man. Flarney said they'd know, and know what to do
about it, too, which is more than he did. His very words, young man!"
Ross didn't dare stay longer. Furthermore he suspected that the old man's
attention span had been
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file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/New%20Fold...%20Pohl%20&%2
0C.%20M.%20Kornbluth%20-%20Search%20the%20Sky.txt exhausted. He started from
the room with a muttered thanks, and was stopped at the door by
Whitker's hand on his shoulder.
"You're a good boy," Whitker squeaked. "Here."
Ross found himself walking down the corridor with an enormous wad of
cellosponge in his hand.
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The bunks were hard, but that didn't matter. Dormitories were the outermost
layer of the hulk, pseudogravity varies inversely as the fourth power of the
distance, and the field generator was conventionally located near "Minerva's"
center. When your relative weight is one-quarter normal you can sleep
deliciously on a gravel driveway. This was the dormitory's only attractive
feature.
Otherwise it was too many steel slabs, tiered and spotted too close, too many
unwashed males, too much weary snoring. The only things in short supply were
headroom and air.
Not everybody slept. Insomniacs turned and grunted; those who had given up the
struggle talked from bunk to bunk in considerately low tones.
Bernie muttered from a third-tier bunk facing Ross's: "I wonder if she made
it."
Ross knew what he meant. "Unlikeliest thing in the world," he said. "But I
think she went fast and never knew what hit her." He thought of the formula
and "They'd know on Earth and know what to do about it too." Earth the enigma,
from which all planetary peoples were supposed to be derived.
Earth the dot on the traditional master charts, Earth from which and to which
no longliners ever seemed to travel. Haarland had told him no F-T-L ship had
in recent centuries ever reported again after setting out for Earth. Another
world sunk in barbarism? But Flarney had said no; that was not data. That was
the confused recollections of a very old man, possibly based on the confused
recollections of another very old man. Perhaps it had got mixed up with the
semilegendary origin story.
Poor sweet Helena! He hoped it had happened fast, that she had been thinking
of some pleasant prospect on Hal-sey's Planet. In her naive way she'd think it
just around the corner, a mere matter of following instructions. . . .
So thought Ross, the pessimist. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
