"Murray Leinster - From Beyond the Stars" - читать интересную книгу автора (Leinster Murray)

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 The Thing spoke respectfully and cordially, though of course it did not really speak at all. Its people
wanted to be friends with Earth. Of course! They had been watching Earth with radar for centuries, so It
told Tommy jovially. They knew that sooner or later Earthmen would roam the stars and benevolently
rule all the planets of all the suns of the Galaxy in which Earth is placed. Because, of course, Earth has
uranium and other heavy metals supplying atomic energy, while other planets are not so fortunate.
Tommy's eyes glowed. But he was extraordinarily composed, in the heroic calm of children in
exciting make-believe.
"Oh, sure!" said Tommy largely, to the Thing of outer space. "We're going to have a Space Patrol
that will make all the people on all the planets behave. I'm going to be a captain in it. Maybe we'll come
and visit you first of all. How far away are you?"
The Thing could not tell Tommy in mind-to-mind converse. The thought it had could not be translated
into words by Tommy Driscoll's brain. But the distance was very great, and It explained quickly that they
were able to talk over so vast a chasm as if face to face because of–
Again Tommy's brain was not able to translate the mental impressions he received. He could
recognize the meanings the Thing wanted to convey, if the meanings were stored away in his memory.
But naturally, complex technical concepts were simply not in his vocabulary. The Thing seemed satisfied
to fail.
"Have you got space-ships and ray-guns and gravity nullifiers and mysterious rays?" asked Tommy
eagerly. "Our scientists haven't even made ray guns yet!"
The Thing said that of course Its race had such things. It added encouragingly that men would have
them soon, of course. With heavy elements—even copper and iron—it would be easy.
Then an overtone came into the thoughts that crowded into Tommy's brain from somewhere beyond
the stars. Tommy did not notice the overtone at first. It was a feeling of eagerness and triumph and of a
sneering superiority.
Tommy got just a momentary impression of Its thought of a Space Patrol subjugating all the Galaxy
to Earth. And the barest, instantaneous flash of hatred because of that thought. But he was too much
excited to notice. He was absorbed in his question about ray guns.
It said that they were simple. In fact, It would tell him how to make one. And It began, simply, to
explain—a bit of copper wire, twisted just so, and a bit of carbon and a morsel of iron.
It urged Tommy to make one immediately. It would guide his hands. The adjustment. of the iron and
carbon was delicate.
Tommy was a small boy, and he sturdily controlled his own hands. In the end the Thing simply told
him what to do. He made the contrivance It suggested, putting the wire and iron and carbon together on
a bit of board, having salvaged them from his father's supplies.
The result did not look too impressive, to be sure. It did not even look like a ray pistol, and that may
account for what ultimately happened. Because when it was finished and Tommy regarded it with a faint
and illogical disappointment because it didn't look like Captain McGee's ray pistol, he suddenly felt the
eager triumph in the Thing which had instructed him.
He glanced at the screen, and the Thing was looking out of it with a ravening, unguarded hatred in Its
expression. To Tommy it abruptly looked like the leader of those Mercurians who had wanted to wipe
out the human race so they could emigrate to Earth. And suddenly he realized that It hated him and all of
humanity with a terrible, burning fury.
"Say!" said Tommy Driscoll, his small-boy's hands clenching and his brows contracting in the best
possible imitation of Space Captain McGee. "This don't look so good!" His voice wabbled suddenly, and
he swallowed. "I'm going to ask my father about this!"

THE THING argued. Plausibly. Flatteringly. But Tommy felt corrosive hatred behind the ingratiating
thoughts. Somehow It reminded him of the Dictator of Pluto in one of the comic books he had read only
the day before. It asked almost sneeringly if he was afraid.