"A. E. Van Vogt - Concealment (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Van Vogt A E)

She acknowledged the greeting, and then unwound the spool for him. He listened, frowning, said finally:
'The latitude he gave for the storm is a meaningless quantity. These incredible people have built up a sun relation system in the Lesser Magellanic Cloud, in which the center is an arbitrary one having no recognizable connection with the magnetic center of the whole Cloud. Probably, they've picked some sun, called it center, and built their whole spatial geography around it.'
The old man whirled abruptly away from her, and led the way into the weather station, to the edge of the pit above which poised the reconstructed weather map.
'The map is utterly worthless to us,' he said succinctly.
'What?'


She saw that he was staring at her, his china-blue eyes thoughtful.
'Tell me, what is your idea of this map?'
The woman was silent, unwilling to commit herself in the face of so much definiteness. Then she frowned, and said:
'My impression is much as you described. They've got a system of their own here, and all we've got to do is find the key.'
She finished more confidently: 'Our main problems, it seems to me, would be to determine which direction we should go in the immediate vicinity of this meteorite weather station we've found. If we chose the wrong direction, there would be vexatious delay, and, throughout, our chief obstacle would be that we dare not go fast because of possible storms.'
She looked at him questioningly, as she ended. And saw that he was shaking his head, gravely:
'I'm afraid,' he said, 'it's not so simple as that. Those bright point-replicas of suns look the size of peas due to light distortion, but when examined through a metroscope they show only a few molecules in diameter. If that is their proportion to the suns they represent-'
She had learned in genuine crises to hide her feelings from subordinates. She stood now, inwardly stunned, outwardly coo1, thoughtful, calm. She said finally:
'You mean each one of those suns, their suns, is buried among about a thousand other suns?'
Worse than that. I would say that they have only inhabited one system in ten thousand. We must never forget that the Lesser Magellanic Cloud is a universe of fifty million stars. That's a lot of sunshine.'
The old man concluded quietly: 'If you wish, I will prepare orbits involving maximum speeds of ten light days a minute to all the nearest stars. We may strike it lucky.'
The woman shook her head savagely: 'One in ten thousand. Don't be foolish. I happen to know the law of averages that relates to ten thousand. We would have to visit a minimum of twenty-five hundred suns if we were lucky, thirty-five to fifty thousand if we were not.
'No, no'-a grim smile compressed her fine lips-'we're not going to spend five hundred years looking for a needle in a haystack. I'll trust to psychology before I trust to chance. We have


the man who understands the map, and while it will take time, he'll talk in the end.'
She started to turn away, then stopped. 'What,' she asked, 'about the building itself? Have you drawn any conclusions from its design?'
He nodded. 'Of the type used in the galaxy about fifteen thousand years ago.'
'Any improvements, changes?'
'None that 1 can see. One observer, who does all the work. Simple, primitive.'
She stood thoughtful, shaking her head as if trying to clear away a mist.
'It seems strange. Surely after fifteen thousand years they could have added something. Colonies are usually static, but not that static.'
She was examining routine reports three hours later when her astro clanged twice, softly. Two messages- The first was from Psychology House, a single question: 'Have we permission to break the prisoner's mind?'
'No!' said Grand Captain Laurr.
The second message made her glance across at the orbit board. The board was aglitter with orbit symbols. That wretched old man, disobeying her injunction NOT to prepare any orbits.
Smiling twistedly, she walked over and studied the shining things, and finally sent an order to Central Engines. She watched as her great ship plunged into night.
After all, she thought, there was such a thing as playing two games at the same time. Counterpoint was older in human relations than it was in music.

The first day she stared down at the outer planet of a blue-white sun. It floated in the darkness below the ship, an airless mass of rock and metal, drab and terrible as any meteorite, a world of primeval canyons and mountains untouched by the leavening breath of life.
Spy rays showed only rock, endless rock, not a sign of movement or of past movement.
There were three other planets, one of them a warm, green world where winds sighed through virgin forests and animals swarmed on the plains.


Not a house showed, nor the erect form of a human being.
Grimly, the woman said into the intership communicator: 'Exactly how far can our spy rays penetrate into the ground?'
'A hundred feet.'
'Are there any metals which can simulate a hundred feet of earth?'
'Several, noble lady.'
Dissatisfied, she broke the connection. There was no call that day from Psychology House.
The second day, a giant red sun swam into her impatient ken. Ninety-four planets swung in their great orbits around their massive parent. Two were habitable, but again there was the profusion of wilderness and of animals usually found only on planets untouched by the hand and metal of civilization.
The chief zoological officer reported the fact in his precise voice: 'The percentage of animals parallels the mean for worlds not inhabited by intelligent beings.'
The woman snapped: 'Has it occurred to you that there may have been a deliberate policy to keep animal life abundant, and laws preventing the tilling of the soil even for pleasure?'
She did not expect, nor did she receive, an answer. And once more there was not a word from Lieutenant Neslor, the chief psychologist.