"C M Kornbluth - The Remorseful" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kornbluth C M)

He woke and drank water from a roadside ditch. There had been a time when water was the problem.
You put three drops of iodine in a canteen. Or you boiled it if you weren't too weak from dysentery. Or
you scooped it from the tank of a flush toilet in the isolated farmhouse with the farmer and his wife and
their kids downstairs grotesquely staring with their empty eye sockets at the television screen for the
long-ago-spoken latest word. Disease or dust or shattering supersonics broadcast from the bullhorn of a
low-skimming drone- what did it matter? Safe water was what mattered.

"But hell," he roared, "it's all good now. Hear that? The rain in the ditches, the standing water in the
pools, it's all good now. You should have been Lonely Man back when the going was bad, fella, when
the bullhorns still came over and the stiffs shook when they did and Lonely Man didn't die but he wished
he could . . ."

This time the storm took him unaware and was long in passing. His hands were ragged from flailing
the-broken concrete and his eyes were so swollen with weeping that he could hardly see to shoulder his
sack of cans. He stumbled often that morning. Once he fell and opened an old scar on his forehead, but
not even that interrupted his steady, mumbling chant: "Tain't no boner, 'tain't no blooper; Corey's Gin
brings super stupor. We shall conquer; we will win. Back

our boys with Corey's Gin. Wasting time in war is sinful; black out fast with a Corey skinful."

They landed.

Five thousand insects of each "life" heaved on fifteen thousand wires to open the port and let down the
landing ramp. While they heaved a few hundred felt the pangs of death on them. They communicated the
minute all-they-knew to blank-minded standby youngsters, died, and were eaten. Other hundreds
stopped heaving briefly, gave birth, and resumed heaving.

The three Visitors swarmed down the ramp, three living black carpets. For maximum visibility they
arranged themselves in three thin black lines which advanced slowly over the rugged terrain. At the tip of
each line a few of the insects occasionally strayed too far from their connecting files and dropped out of
the "life" field. These staggered in purposeless circles. Some blundered back into the field; some did not
and died, leaving a minute hiatus in the "life's" memory- perhaps the shape of the full-stop" symbol in the
written language of a planet long ago visited, long ago dust. Normally the thin line was not used for
exploring any but the smoothest terrain; the fact that they took a small calculated risk was a measure of
the Visitors' slightly irked curiosity.

With three billion faceted eyes the Visitors saw immediately that this was no semi-deserted world, and
that furthermore it was probably the world which had colonized the puzzling outer planet. Entities were
everywhere; the air was thick with them in some places. There were numerous artifacts, all in ruins. Here
the entities of the planet clustered, but here the bafflement deepened. The artifacts were all decidedly
material and ponderous-but the entities were insubstantial. Coarsely organized observers would not have
perceived them consistently. They existed in a field similar to the organization field of the Visitors. Their
bodies were constructs of wave trains rather than atoms. It was impossible to imagine them manipulating
the materials of which the artifacts were composed.

And as before, the Visitors were ignored.

Deliberately they clustered themselves in three huge black balls, with the object of being as obstreperous
as possible and also to mobilize their field strength for a brute-force attempt at communication with the
annoying creatures. By this tune their attitude approximated: "We'll show these bastards!"