"A. E. Van Vogt - The Players of Null-A" - читать интересную книгу автора (Van Vogt A E)

Immigration Hall.
 The picture clear in his mind, Gosseyn memorized a spot behind a pillar beyond the turnstile. Then, as if he had
forgotten something, he returned aboard the ship and hid until dark. When the shadows lay deep and long in the land
below, he materialized behind the pillar of the immigration building, and walked calmly toward the nearest door. A
moment later he stepped down onto a paved sidewalk, and looked along a street that shone with a million lights.
He had an acute sense of being at the beginning and not the end of his adventure--Gilbert Gosseyn, who knew just
enough about himself to be dissatisfied.
The pit was guarded by a division of Venusian Null-As, but there was no interference with the thin but steady stream
of visitors. Gosseyn wandered disconsolately along the brightly lighted corridors of the underground city. The vastness
of what had once been the secret base in the solar system of the Greatest Empire overshadowed his body. Silent
distorter-type elevators carried him to the higher levels, through rooms that glittered with machines, some of which
were still operating. At intervals he paused to watch Venusian engineers singly and in groups examining instruments
and mechanical devices.
A communicator snatched Gosseyn's attention, and a sudden wonder made him stop and switch it on. There was a
pause, then the voice of the roboperator said in a matter-of-fact tone, ‘What star are you calling?'
Gosseyn drew a deep breath. 'I'd like,' he said, 'to speak to either Eldred Crang or Patricia Hardie.'
He waited, with rising excitement. The idea had come like a flash, and he could hardly imagine its being successful.
But even if no contact was established, that in itself would be information of a sort.
After several seconds, the robot said, 'Eldred Crang left the following message: “To anyone who may attempt to
locate me, I regret that no communication is possible".' That was all. There was no explanation. 'Any other call, sir?'
Gosseyn hesitated. He was disappointed, but still the situation was not entirely adverse. Crang had left the solar
system connected with the vast interstellar videophone organization. It was a tremendous opportunity for the
Venusians, and it gave Gosseyn a personal thrill to imagine what they could do with it. Another question formed in his
mind. The answer of the roboperator was prompt:
'It would take a ship about four hours to come here from Gela 30, which is the nearest base.'
It was a point Gosseyn was very much interested in. 'I thought Distorter transport was virtually instantaneous.'
‘There is a margin of error in the transport of matter, although the traveler has no physical awareness of it. To him it
appears to be an instantaneous process.'
Gosseyn nodded. He could understand that to some extent. Twenty decimal similarity was not perfect. He continued,
'Suppose I made a call to Gela. Would it take eight hours to get a message back?'
'Oh, no. The margin of error on the electronic level is infinitesimally small. The error to Gela would be about one-
fifth of a second. Only matter is slow.'
'I see,' said Gosseyn. 'You can talk right across the galaxy with scarcely any delay.'
'That is right.'
'But suppose I wanted to talk to someone who didn't speak my language?'
'There is no problem. A robot translates sentence by sentence in as colloquial a manner as possible.'
Gosseyn wasn't sure about there being no problem in such a verbal transference. Part of the Null-A approach to
reality had to do with the importance of word-word relationships. Words were subtle, and frequently had little
connection with the facts they were supposed to represent. He could imagine innumerable mix-ups between galactic
citizens who did not speak each other's languages. Since the galactic empires did not teach Null-A, or practice it, they
were apparently unaware of the dangers of misunderstanding implicit in the process of intercommunication through
robots.
The important thing was to be aware of the problem from moment to moment. Gosseyn said, That's all, thank you!'
and broke the connection.
He arrived presently in the tree apartment which he had shared with Patricia Hardie while they were both prisoners
of Thorson. He looked for a message that might have been left for him, a more complete and personal account than
could be entrusted to the videophone exchange. He found several transcribed conversations between Patricia and Crang
--and had what he wanted.
The references to Patricia's identity did not surprise him. He had always hesitated to accept her statements about her
personal life, even though she had proved trustworthy in the fight against Thorson. The information that the great war