"Chapter 02" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gordon Dickson - Forever Man)

mission notice from Ear~? Five ship section for deep probe
Laagi ter'ritory. Wander Section Leader, speaking."
"Transmission notice confirmed, Wander Section leader,"
crackled back the voice from Picket Nine. "Mission con-
firmed. You will not deship. Repeat, not deship. local Fron-
tier area has been scouted for slipover, and data prepared for
flash transmission to you. You will accept data and leave im-
mediately. Please key to receive data."
'Major-" began the voice of Mary, behind him.
"Shut up," said Jim. He said it casually, without rancor, as
if he was speaking to his regular gunner, Leif Molloy. For a


moment he had forgotten that he was carrying a passenger
instead of a proper gunman. And there was no time to think
about it now. "Acknowledge," he said to Picket Nine. "1~ans-
mit data, please."
He pressed the data key and the hgbt above it sprang into
being and glowed for nearly a full second before going dark
again. That, thought Jim, was a lot of data-at the high-speed
transmission at which such information was pumped into his
ship's computing center. That was one of the reasons the new
mind-units were evolved out of solid-state physics instead of


following up the development of the older, semianimate brain~
such as the one aboard the ancient La Chasse Gailerie. The
semianimate brains-living tissue in a nutrient solution-
could not accept the modern need for sudden high-speed
packing of sixteen hours' worth of data into the space of a
second or so.
Also, such living tissue had to be specially protected
against high accelerations, needed to be fed and trimmed-
and it died on you at the wrong times.
All the time Jim was turning this over with one part of his
mind, the other and larger part of his thinking process was
driving the gloved fingers of his right hand. These moved over
a bank of one hundred and twenty small black buttons, ten
across and twelve down, like the stops on a piano-accordion,
and with the unthinking speed and skill of the trained operator,
he punched them, requesting information out of the body of
data just pumped into his ship's computing center, building up
from this a picture of the situation, and constructing a pattern
of action to be taken as a result.
Evoked by the intricate code set up by combinations of the
black buttons under his fingers, the ghost voice of the mind-
unit whispered in his ear in a code of words and numbers
hardly less intricate.
"...transmit destination area one~ighty ElI Wye, Lag
Sector L 4~ at point 12.5, 13.2, 64.5. Proceeding jumps 10