"Arcady And Boris Strugatsky. Prisoners of Power" - читать интересную книгу автора

could do it himself. She pushed the chair to the middle of the room (Maxim
had moved it against the wall) and resolutely opened the radiator valve that
Maxim always turned off. His persistent use of "must not" shattered her no
less than his persistent "must."
After buttoning his jump suit at the neck, Maxim went to the table and
picked at his breakfast with a two-pronged fork. The usual exchange
followed.
"Don't want. Must not."
"Must. Food. Breakfast."
"Don't want breakfast. Tastes bad."
"Must eat breakfast. Good."
"Fishface," Maxim exploded in Lingcos, "you are a very cruel woman. If
you were to come to Earth, I would run myself ragged trying to find food you
liked."
"I don't understand," she said blankly. "What is 'fishface'?"
While disgustedly chewing a greasy chunk of food, Maxim took a piece of
paper and sketched a sunfish full face. She studied it carefully and put it
in the pocket of her smock. She appropriated all of Maxim's drawings and
took them somewhere. Maxim drew a great deal and enjoyed it. During free
moments and at night when he could not sleep, there was absolutely nothing
else to do. So he drew animals and people, charts and diagrams, and
anatomical cross sections. He drew Professor Megu like a hippopotamus, and
hippopotamuses like Professor Megu. He constructed an encyclopedic chart of
the Lingcos language, schematics of machines, and diagrams of historical
chronology. The reams of paper he consumed all disappeared into Fishface's
pocket without any visible evidence that he had succeeded in communicating
with his hosts. Hippo - Professor Megu - had his own approach to the
problem and had no intention of changing it.
The encyclopedic chart of Lingcos, whose study would enable them to
initiate communication with Maxim, held absolutely no interest for Hippo.
Fishface was the only person teaching the stranger the local language, and
then only the most basic terms for communication - "Close the window," "Put
on your jumpsuit," and the like. Not a single communications specialist was
assigned to his case. Hippo, and only Hippo, was occupied with Maxim.
True, he had a rather powerful research tool at his command -
mentoscopic equipment - and Maxim spent from fourteen to six-teen hours a
day in the testing chair. Moreover, Hippo's mento-scope was very sensitive.
It permitted rather deep memory penetration and possessed an extremely high
resolution capability. With such equipment it was possible to manage without
language.
But Hippo used the mentoscope in a rather peculiar manner. He
categorically refused to show his own mentograms to anyone and was even
somewhat angered by suggestions that he do so. And his attitude toward
Maxim's mentograms was strange. Maxim had organized his recollections so
that the natives would receive a rather comprehensive picture of Earth's
social, economic, and cultural life. But these mentograms failed to arouse
an enthusiastic response from Hippo. He would make a wry face, mumble, walk
away, make phone calls, or harass his assistant, frequently repeating a
succulent-sounding word, "massaraksh." When the screen showed Maxim blowing
up an icy crag that was bearing down on his ship, or tearing an armored wolf