"Gordon R. Dickson - The Human Edge" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

didn't bring you here because of any personal . . . dislike . . . or enmity for you; but for. . . ."
"Observation," supplied the doctor. The commander turned and bowed slightly to him, and was
bowed back at in return.
" . . . Observation," went on the commander. "Now, do you understand what I've told you so far?"
"I'm listening," said Eldridge.
"Very well," said the commander. "I will go on. There is something about your people that we are
very anxious to discover. We have been, and intend to continue, studying you to find it out. So far—I
will admit quite frankly and freely—we have not found it; and the concensus among our best minds is
that you, yourself, do not know what it is. Accordingly, we have hopes of . . . causing . . . you to
discover it for yourself. And for us."
"Hey. . . ." breathed Eldridge.
"Oh, you will be well treated. I assure you," said the commander, hurriedly. "You have been well
treated. You have been . . . but you did not know . . . I mean you did not feel—"
"Can you remember any discomfort since we picked you up?" asked the doctor, leaning forward.
"Depends what you mean—"
"And you will feel none." The doctor turned to the commander. "Perhaps I'm getting ahead of
myself?"
"Perhaps," said the commander. He bowed and turned back to Eldridge. "To explain—we hope
you will discover our answer for it. We're only going to put you in a position to work on it. Therefore,
we've decided to tell you everything. First—the problem. Academician?"
The oldest one bowed. His deep voice made the room ring oddly.
"If you will look this way," he said. Eldridge turned his head. The other raised one paw and the wall
beside him dissolved into a maze of lines and points. "Do you know what this is?"
"No," said Eldridge.
"It is," rumbled the one called the academician, "a map of the known universe. You lack the training
to read it in four dimensions, as it should be read. No matter. You will take my word for it . . . it is a
map. A map covering hundreds of thousands of your light-years and millions of your years."
He looked at Eldridge, who said nothing.
"To go on, then. What we know of your race is based upon two sources of information. History.
And Legend. The history is sketchy. It rests on archaeological discoveries for the most part. The legend
is even sketchier and—fantastic."
He paused again. Still Eldridge guarded his tongue.
***
"Briefly, there is a race that has three times broken out to overrun this mapped area of our galaxy
and dominate other civilized cultures—until some inherent lack or weakness in the individual caused the
component parts of this advance to die out. The periods of these outbreaks has always been disastrous
for the dominated cultures and uniformly without benefit to the race I am talking about. In the case of
each outbreak, though the home planet was destroyed and all known remnants of the advancing race
hunted out, unknown seed communities remained to furnish the material for a new advance some
thousands of years later. That race," said the academician, and coughed—or at least made some kind of
noise in his throat, "is your own."
Eldridge watched the other carefully and without moving.
"We see your race, therefore," went on the academician, and Eldridge received the mental
impression of an elderly man putting the tips of his ringers together judiciously, "as one with great or
overwhelming natural talents, but unfortunately also with one great natural flaw. This flaw seems to be a
desire—almost a need—to acquire and possess things. To reach out, encompass, and absorb. It is not,"
shrugged the academician, "a unique trait. Other races have it—but not to such an extent that it makes
them a threat to their co-existing cultures. Yet, this in itself is not the real problem. If it was a simple
matter of rapacity, a combination of other races should be able to contain your people. There is a natural
inevitable balance of that sort continually at work in the galaxy. No," said the academician and paused,