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

Slan (v1.1)

A.E. Van Vogt, 1946




Chapter One


His mother's hand felt cold, clutching his.
Her fear as they walked hurriedly along the street was a quiet, swift pulsation that
throbbed from her mind to his. A hundred other thoughts beat against his mind, from the
crowds that swarmed by on either side, and from inside the buildings they passed. But only
his mother's thoughts were clear and coherent -- and afraid.
'They're following us, Jommy,' her brain telegraphed. 'They're not sure, but they suspect.
We've risked once too often coming into the capital, though I did hope that this time I could
show you the old slan way of getting into the catacombs, where your father's secret is
hidden. Jommy, if the worst happens, you know what to do. We've practiced it often
enough. And, Jommy, don't be afraid, don't get excited. You may be only nine years old, but
you're as intelligent as any fifteen-year-old human being.'
Don't be afraid. Easy to advise, Jommy thought, and hid the thought from her. She
wouldn't like that concealment, that distorting shield between them. But there were
thoughts that had to be kept back. She mustn't know he was afraid also.
It was new and exciting, as well. He felt excited each time he came into the heart of
Centropolis from the quiet suburb where they lived. The great parks, the miles of
skyscrapers, the tumult of the throngs always seemed even more wonderful than his
imagination had pictured them -- but then size was to be expected of the capital of the
world. Here was the seat of the government. Here, somewhere, lived Kier Gray, absolute
dictator of the entire planet. Long ago -- hundreds of years before -- the slans had held
Centropolis during their brief period of ascendancy. Jommy, do you feel their hostility? Can
you sense things over a distance yet?'
He strained. The steady wave of vagueness that washed from the crowds pressing all
around grew into a swirl of mind clamor. From somewhere came the stray wisp of thought:
'They say there are still slans alive in this city, in spite of all precautions. And the order is
to shoot them on sight.'
'But isn't that dangerous?' came a second thought, obviously a question asked aloud,
though Jommy caught only the mental picture. 'I mean a perfectly innocent person might be
killed by mistake.'
'That's why they seldom shoot on sight. They try to capture them and then examine
them. Their internal organs are different from ours, you know, and on their heads are -- '
'Jommy, can you feel them, about a block behind us? In a big car! Waiting for
reinforcements to close in on us from in front. They're working fast. Can you catch their
thoughts, Jommy?'
He couldn't! No matter how hard he reached out with his mind and strained and perspired
with his trying. That was where her mature powers surpassed his precocious instincts. She
could span distances and disentangle remote vibrations into coherent pictures.
He wanted to turn around and look, but he didn't dare. His small, though long, legs
twinkled underneath him, half running to keep up with his mother's impatient pace. It was
terrible to be little and helpless and young and inexperienced, when their life demanded the