"Stranger in a Strange Land" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert Anson)IVGILLIAN BOARDMAN was a competent nurse and her hobby was men. She went on duty that day as supervisor of the floor where Smith was. When the grapevine said that the patient in suite K-12 had never seen a woman in his life, she did not believe it. She went to pay a call on the strange patient. She knew of the «No Female Visitors» rule and, while she did not consider herself to be a visitor, she sailed past without attempting to use the guarded door — marines had a stuffy habit of construing orders literally. Instead she went into the adjacent watch room. Dr. Thaddeus looked up. «Well, if it ain't “Dimples!” Hi, honey, what brings you here?» «This is part of my rounds. What about your patient?» «Don't worry your head, honey chile; he's not your responsibility. See your order book.» «I read it. I want to look at him.» «In one word — no.» «Oh, Tad, don't go regulation.» He gazed at his nails. «If I let you put your foot inside that door, I'd wind up in Antarctica. I wouldn't want Dr. Nelson even to catch you in this watch room.» She stood up. «Is Doctor Nelson likely to pop in?» «Not unless I send for him. He's sleeping off low-gee fatigue.» «Then what's the idea of being so duty struck?» «That's all, Nurse.» «Very well, Doctor!» She added, «Stinker.» «Jill!» «A stuffed shirt, too.» He sighed. «Still okay for Saturday night?» She shrugged. «I suppose. A girl can't be fussy these days.» She went back to her station, picked up the pass key. She was balked but not beaten, as suite K-12 had a door joining it to the room beyond, a room used as a sitting room when the suite was occupied by a high official. The room was not then in use. She let herself into it. The guards paid no attention, unaware that they had been flanked. She hesitated at the door between the two rooms, feeling the excitement she used to feel when sneaking out of student nurses' quarters. She unlocked it and looked in. The patient was in bed, he looked at her as the door opened. Her first impression was that here was a patient too far gone to care. His lack of expression seemed to show the apathy of the desperately ill. Then she saw that his eyes were alive with interest; she wondered if his face was paralyzed? She assumed her professional manner. «Well, how are we today? Feeling better?» Smith translated the questions. The inclusion of both of them in the query was confusing; he decided that it might symbolize a wish to cherish and grow close. The second part matched Nelson's speech forms. «Yes,» he answered. «Good!» Aside from his odd lack of expression she saw nothing strange about him — and if women were unknown to him, he was managing to conceal it. «Is there anything I can do?» She noted that there was no glass on the bedside shelf. «May I get you water?» Smith spotted at once that this creature was different from the others. He compared what he was seeing with pictures Nelson had shown him on the trip from home to his place — pictures intended to explain a puzzling configuration of this people group. This, then, was «woman.» He felt both oddly excited and disappointed. He suppressed both in order that he might grok deeply, with such success that Dr. Thaddeus noticed no change in the dials next door. But when he translated the last query he felt such surge of emotion that he almost let his heartbeat increase. He caught it and chided himself for an undisciplined nestling. Then he checked his translation. No, he was mistaken. This woman creature had offered him water. It wished to grow closer. With great effort, scrambling for adequate meanings, he attempted to answer with due ceremoniousness. «I thank you for water. May you always drink deep.» Nurse Boardman looked startled. «Why, how sweet!» She found a glass, filled it, and handed it to him. He said, «You drink.» Wonder if he thinks I'm trying to poison him? she asked herself — but there was a compelling quality to his request. She took a sip, whereupon he took one also, after which he seemed content to sink back, as if he had accomplished something important. Jill told herself that, as an adventure, this was a fizzle. She said, «Well, if you don't need anything, I must get on with my work.» She started for the door. He called out, «No!» She stopped. «Eh?» «Don't go away.» «Well…I'll have to go, pretty quickly.» She came back. «Is there anything you want?» He looked her up and down. «You are … “woman”?» The question startled Jill Boardman. Her impulse was to answer flippantly. But Smith's grave face and oddly disturbing eyes checked her. She became aware emotionally that the impossible fact about this patient was true; he did not know what a woman was. She answered carefully, «Yes, I am a woman.» Smith continued to stare. Jill began to be embarrassed. To be looked at by a male she expected, but this was like being examined under a microscope. She stirred. «Well? I look like a woman, don't I?» «I do not know,» Smith answered slowly. «How does woman look? What makes you woman?» «Well, for pity's sake!» This conversation was further out of hand than any she had had with a male since her twelfth birthday. «You don't expect me to take off my clothes and show you!» Smith took time to examine these symbols and try to translate them. The first group he could not grok at all. It might be one of those formal sounds these people used … yet it had been spoken with force, as if it might be a last communication before withdrawal. Perhaps he had so deeply mistaken right conduct in dealing with a woman creature that it might be ready to discorporate. He did not want the woman to die at that moment, even though it was its right and possibly its obligation. The abrupt change from rapport of water ritual to a situation in which a newly won water brother might be considering withdrawal or discorporation would have thrown him into panic had he not been consciously suppressing such disturbance. But he decided that if it died now he must die at once also — he could not grok it any other wise, not after giving of water. The second half contained symbols he had encountered before. He grokked imperfectly the intention but there seemed to be a way to avoid this crisis — by acceding to the suggested wish. Perhaps if the woman took its clothes off neither of them need discorporate. He smiled happily. «Please.» Jill opened her mouth, closed it. She opened it again. «Well, I'll be darned!» Smith could grok emotional violence and knew that he had offered a wrong reply. He began to compose his mind for discorporation, savoring and cherishing all that he had been and seen, with especial attention to this woman creature. Then he became aware that the woman was bending over him and he knew somehow that it was not about to die. It looked into his face. «Correct me if I am wrong,» it said, «but were you asking me to take my clothes off?» The inversions and abstractions required careful translation but Smith managed it. «Yes,» he answered, hoping that it would not stir up a new crisis. «That's what I thought you said. Brother, you aren't ill.» The word «brother» he considered first — the woman was reminding him that they had been joined in water. He asked the help of his nestlings that he might measure up to whatever this new brother wanted. «I am not ill,» he agreed. «Though I'm darned if I know what is wrong with you. I won't peel down. And I've got to leave.» It straightened up and turned toward the side door — then stopped and looked back with a quizzical smile. «You might ask me again, real prettily, under other circumstances. I'm curious to see what I might do.» The woman was gone. Smith relaxed and let the room fade away. He felt sober triumph that he had somehow comported himself so that it was not necessary for them to die … but there was much to grok. The woman's last speech had contained symbols new to him and those which were not new had been arranged in fashions not easily understood. But he was happy that the flavor had been suitable for communication between water brothers — although touched with something disturbing and terrifyingly pleasant. He thought about his new brother, the woman creature, and felt odd tingles. The feeling reminded him of the first time he had been allowed to be present at a discorporation and he felt happy without knowing why. He wished that his brother Doctor Mahmoud were here. There was so much to grok, so little to grok from. Jill spent the rest of her watch in a daze. The face of the Man from Mars stayed in her mind and she mulled over the crazy things he had said. No, not «crazy» — she had done her stint in psychiatric wards and felt certain that his remarks had not been psychotic. She decided that «innocent» was the term — then decided that the word was not adequate. His expression was innocent, his eyes were not. What sort of creature had a face like that? She had once worked in a Catholic hospital; she suddenly saw the face of the Man from Mars surrounded by the headdress of a nursing sister, a nun. The idea disturbed her; there was nothing female about Smith's face. She was changing into street clothes when another nurse stuck her head into the locker room. «Phone, Jill.» Jill accepted the call, sound without vision, while she dressed. «Is this Florence Nightingale?» a baritone voice asked. «Speaking. That you, Ben?» «The stalwart upholder of the freedom of the press in person. Little one, are you busy?» «What do you have in mind?» «I have in mind buying you a steak, plying you with liquor, and asking you a question.» «The answer is still “No.”» «Not «Oh, you know another one? Tell me.» «Later. I want you softened up first.» «Real steak? Not syntho?» «Guaranteed. Stick a fork in it and it will moo.» «You must be on an expense account, Ben.» «That's irrelevant and ignoble. How about it?» «You've talked me into it.» «Roof on the medical center. Ten minutes.» She put the suit she had changed into back into her locker and put on a dress kept there for emergencies. It was demure, barely translucent, with bustle and bust pads so subdued that they merely re-created the effect she would have produced wearing nothing. Jill looked at herself with satisfaction and took the bounce tube up to the roof. She was looking for Ben Caxton when the roof orderly touched her arm. «There's a car paging you, Miss Boardman — that Talbot saloon.» «Thanks, Jack.» She saw the taxi spotted for take-off, with its door open. She climbed in, and was about to hand Ben a back-handed compliment when she saw that he was not inside. The taxi was on automatic; its door closed and it took to the air, swung out of the circle and sliced across the Potomac. It stopped on a landing flat over Alexandria and Caxton got in; it took off again. Jill looked him over. «My, aren't we important! Since when do you send a robot to pick up your women?» He patted her knee and said gently, «Reasons, little one. I can't be seen picking you up — » «Well!» « — and you can't afford to be seen with me. So simmer down, it was necessary.» «Hmm … which one of us has leprosy?» «Both of us. Jill, I'm a newspaperman.» «I was beginning to think you were something else.» «And you are a nurse at the hospital where they are holding the Man from Mars.» «Does that make me unfit to meet your mother?» «Do you need a map, Jill? There are more than a thousand reporters in this area, plus press agents, ax grinders, winchells, lippmanns, and the stampede that arrived when the «I don't see that it matters. I'm not the Man from Mars.» He looked her over. «You certainly aren't. But you are going to help me see him — which is why I didn't pick you up.» «Huh? Ben, you've been out in the sun without your hat. They've got a marine guard around him.» «So they have. So we talk it over.» «I don't see what there is to talk about.» «Later. Let's eat.» «Now you sound rational. Would your expense account run to the New Mayflower? You Caxton frowned. «Jill, I wouldn't risk a restaurant closer than Louisville. It would take this hack two hours to get that far. How about dinner in my apartment?» «“ — Said the Spider to the Fly.” Ben, I'm too tired to wrestle.» «Nobody asked you to. King's X, cross my heart and hope to die.» «I don't like that much better. If I'm safe with you, I must be slipping. Well, all right, King's X.» Caxton punched buttons; the taxi, which had been circling under a «hold» instruction, woke up and headed for the apartment hotel where Ben lived. He punched a phone number and said to Jill, «How much time do you want to get liquored up, sugar foot? I'll tell the kitchen to have the steaks ready.» Jill considered it. «Ben, your mousetrap has a private kitchen.» «Of sorts. I can grill a steak.» «I'll grill the steak. Hand me the phone.» She gave orders, stopping to make sure that Ben liked endive. The taxi dropped them on the roof and they went down to his flat. It was old-fashioned, its one luxury a live grass lawn in the living room. Jill stopped, slipped off her shoes, stepped barefooted into the living room and wiggled her toes among the cool green blades. She sighed. «My, that feels good. My feet have hurt ever since I entered training.» «Sit down.» «No, I want my feet to remember this tomorrow.» «Suit yourself.» He went into his pantry and mixed drinks. Presently she followed and became domestic. Steak was in the package lift; with it were pre-baked potatoes. She tossed the salad, handed it to the refrigerator, set up a combination to grill the steak and heat the potatoes, but did not start the cycle. «Ben, doesn't this stove have remote control?» He studied the setup, flipped a switch. «Jill, what would you do if you had to cook over an open fire?» «I'd do darn well. I was a Girl Scout. How about you, smarty?» They went to the living room; Jill sat at his feet and they applied themselves to martinis. Opposite his chair was a stereovision tank disguised as an aquarium; he switched it on, guppies and tetras gave way to the face of the well-known winchell Augustus Greaves. « — it can be stated authoritatively,» the image was saying, «that the Man from Mars is being kept under drugs to keep him from disclosing these facts. The administration would find it extremely — » Caxton flipped it off. «Gus old boy,» he said pleasantly, «you don't know a durn thing more than I do.» He frowned. «Though you might be right about the government keeping him under drugs.» «No, they aren't,» Jill said suddenly. «Eh? How's that, little one?» «The Man from Mars isn't under hypnotics.» Having blurted more than she had meant to, she added, «He's got a doctor on continuous watch, but there aren't any orders for sedation.» «Are you sure? You aren't one of his nurses?» «No. Uh … matter of fact, there's an order to keep women away from him and some tough marines to make sure of it.» Caxton nodded. «So I heard. Fact is, you don't know whether they are drugging him or not.» Jill bit her lip. She would have to tell on herself to back up what she had said. «Ben? You wouldn't give me away?» «How?» «Any way at all.» «Hmm … that covers a lot, but I'll go along.» «All right. Pour me another.» He did so, Jill went on. «I know they don't have the Man from Mars hopped up — because I talked with him.» Caxton whistled. «I knew it. When I got up this morning I said to myself, “Go see Jill. She's the ace up my sleeve.” Honey lamb, have another drink. Have six. Here, take the pitcher.» «Not so fast!» «Whatever you like. May I rub your poor tired feet? Lady, you are about to be interviewed. How — » «No, Ben! You promised. You quote me and I'll lose my job.» «Mmm … How about “from a usually reliable source”?» «I'd be scared.» «Well? Are you going to let me die of frustration and eat that steak by yourself?» «Oh, I'll talk. But you can't use it.» Ben kept quiet; Jill described how she had out-flanked the guards. He interrupted. «Say! Could you do that again?» «Huh? I suppose so, but I won't. It's risky.» «Well, could you slip me in that way? Look, I'll dress like an electrician — coveralls, union badge, tool kit. You slip me the key and — » «No!» «Huh? Look, baby girl, be reasonable. This is the greatest human-interest story since Colombo conned Isabella into hocking her jewels. The only thing that worries me is that I may find another electrician — » «The only thing that worries me is «Mmm … there's that.» «There sure is that.» «Lady, you are about to be offered a bribe.» «How big? It'll take quite a chunk to keep me in style the rest of my life in Rio.» «Well… you can't expect me to outbid Associated Press, or Reuters. How about a hundred?» «What do you think I am?» «We settled that, we're dickering over the price. A hundred and fifty?» «Look up the number of Associated Press, that's a lamb.» «Capitol 10-9000. Jill, will you marry me? That's as high as I can go.» She looked startled. «What did you say?» «Will you marry me? Then, when they ride you out of town on a rail, I'll be waiting at the city line and take you away from your sordid existence. You'll come back here and cool your toes in my grass — «Ben, you almost sound serious. If I phone for a Fair Witness, will you repeat that?» Caxton sighed. «Send for a Witness.» She stood up. «Ben,» she said softly, «I won't hold you to it.» She kissed him. «Don't joke about marriage to a spinster.» «I wasn't joking.» «I wonder. Wipe off the lipstick and I'll tell everything I know, then we'll consider how you can use it without getting me ridden on that rail. Fair enough?» «Fair enough.» She gave him a detailed account. «I'm sure he wasn't drugged. I'm equally sure that he was rational — although he talked in the oddest fashion and asked the darnedest questions.» «It would be odder still if he hadn't talked oddly.» «Huh?» «Jill, we don't know much about Mars but we do know that Martians are not human. Suppose you were popped into a tribe so far back in the jungle that they had never seen shoes. Would you know the small talk that comes from a lifetime in a culture? That's a mild analogy; the truth is at least forty million miles stranger.» Jill nodded. «I figured that out. that's why I discounted his odd remarks. I'm not dumb.» «No, you're real bright, for a female.» «Would you like this martini in your hair?» «I apologize. Women are smarter than men; that is proved by our whole setup. Gimme, I'll fill it.» She accepted peace offerings and went on, «Ben, that order about not letting him see women, it's silly. He's no sex fiend.» «No doubt they don't want to hand him too many shocks at once.» «He wasn't shocked. He was just … interested. It wasn't like having a man look at me.» «If you had granted that request for a viewing, you might have had your hands full.» «I don't think so. I suppose they've told him about male and female; he just wanted to see how women are different.» «“Vive la difference!”» Caxton answered enthusiastically. «Don't be vulgar.» «Me? I was being reverent. I was giving thanks that I was born human and not Martian.» «Be serious.» «I was never more serious.» «Then be quiet. He wouldn't have given me any trouble. You didn't see his face — I did.» «What about his face?» Jill looked puzzled. «Ben, have you ever seen an angel?» «You, cherub. Otherwise not.» «Well, neither have I — but that is how he looked. He had old, wise eyes in a completely placid face, a face of unearthly innocence.» She shivered. «“Unearthly” is the word,» Ben answered slowly. «I'd like to see him.» «Ben, why are they keeping him shut up? He wouldn't hurt a fly.» Caxton fitted his fingertips together. «Well, they want to protect him. He grew up in Mars gravity; he's probably weak as a cat.» «But muscular weakness isn't dangerous; myasthenia gravis is much worse and we manage all right with that.» «They want to keep him from catching things, too. He's like those experimental animals at Notre Dame; he's never been exposed.» «Sure, sure — no antibodies. But from what I hear around the mess hall, Doctor Nelson — the surgeon in the «Can I use that, Jill? That's news.» «Just don't quote me. They gave him shots for everything but housemaid's knee, too. But, Ben, to protect him from infection doesn't take armed guards.» «Mmmm…. Jill, I've picked up a few tidbits you may not know. I can't use them because I've got to protect my sources. But I'll tell you — just-don't talk.» «I won't.» «It's a long story. Want a refill?» «No, let's start the steak. Where's the button?» «Right here.» «Well, push it.» «Me? You offered to cook dinner.» «Ben Caxton, I will lie here and starve before I will get up to push a button six inches from your finger.» «As you wish.» He pressed the button. «But don't forget who cooked dinner. Now about Valentine Michael Smith. There is grave doubt as to his right to the name “Smith.”» «Huh?» «Honey, your pal is the first interplanetary bastard of record.» «The hell you say!» «Please be ladylike. You remember anything about the Envoy? Four married couples. Two couples were Captain and Mrs. Brant, Doctor and Mrs. Smith. Your friend with the face of an angel is the son of Mrs. Smith by Captain Brant.» «How do they know? And who cares? It's pretty snivelin' to dig up scandal after all this time. They're dead — let 'em alone!» «As to how they know, there probably never were eight people more thoroughly measured and typed. Blood typing, Rh factor, hair and eye color, all those genetic things — you know more about them than I do. It is certain that Mary Jane Lyle Smith was his mother and Michael Brant his father. It gives Smith a fine heredity; his father had an I.Q. of 163, his mother 170, and both were tops in their fields. «As to who cares,» Ben went on, «a lot of people care — and more will, once this shapes up. Ever heard of the Lyle Drive?» «Of course. That's what the «And every space ship, these days. Who invented it?» «I don't — Wait a minute! You mean «Hand the lady a cigar! Dr. Mary Jane Lyle Smith. She had it worked out before she left even though development remained to be done. So she applied for basic patents and placed it in trust — They brought in dinner. Caxton used ceiling tables to protect his lawn; he lowered one to his chair and another to Japanese height so that Jill could sit on the grass. «Tender?» he asked. «Ongerful!» she answered. «Thanks. Remember, I cooked.» «Ben,» she said after swallowing, «how about Smith being a — I mean, illegitimate? Can he inherit?» «He's not illegitimate. Doctor Mary Jane was at Berkeley; California laws deny the concept of bastardy. Same for Captain Brant, as New Zealand has civilized laws. While in the home state of Doctor Ward Smith, Mary Jane's husband, a child born in wedlock is legitimate, come hell or high water. We have here, Jill, a man who is the legitimate child of three parents.» «Huh? Now wait, Ben; he can't be. I'm not a lawyer but — » «You sure ain't. Such fictions don't bother a lawyer. Smith is legitimate different ways in different jurisdictions — even though a bastard in fact. So he inherits. Besides that, while his mother was wealthy, his fathers were well to do. Brant ploughed most of his scandalous salary as a pilot on the Moon run into Lunar Enterprises. You know how that stuff boomed — they just declared another stock dividend. Brant had one vice, gambling — but the bloke won regularly and invested that, too. Ward Smith had family money. Smith is heir to both.» «Whew!» «That ain't half, honey. Smith is heir to the entire crew.» «Huh?» «All eight signed a “Gentlemen Adventurers” contract, making them mutually heirs to each other — all of them Jill thought about the childlike creature who had made such a touching ceremony of a drink of water and felt sorry for him. Caxton went on: «I wish I could sneak a look at the «Why not, Ben?» «It's a nasty story. I got that much before my informant sobered up. Dr. Ward Smith delivered his wife by Caesarean section — and she died on the table. What he did next shows that he knew the score; with the same scalpel he cut Captain Brant's throat — then his own. Sorry, hon.» Jill shivered. «I'm a nurse. I'm immune to such things.» «You're a liar and I love you for it. I was on police beat three years, Jill; I never got hardened to it.» «What happened to the others?» «If we don't break the bureaucrats loose from that log, we'll never know — and I am a starry-eyed newsboy who thinks we should. Secrecy begets tyranny.» «Ben, he might be better off if they gypped him out of his inheritance. He's very … uh, unworldly.» «The exact word, I'm sure. Nor does he need money; the Man from Mars will never miss a meal. Any government and a thousand-odd universities and institutions would be delighted to have him as a permanent guest.» «He'd better sign it over and forget it.» «It's not that easy. Jill, you know the famous case of General Atomics versus Larkin, et al.?» «Uh, you mean the Larkin Decision. I had it in school, same as everybody. What's it got to do with Smith?» «Think back. The Russians sent the first ship to the Moon, it crashed. The United States and Canada combine to send one; it gets back but leaves nobody on the Moon. So while the United States and the Commonwealth are getting set to send a colonizing one under the sponsorship of the Federation and Russia is mounting the same deal on their own, General Atomics steals a march by boosting one from an island leased from Ecuador — and their men are there, sitting pretty and looking smug when the Federation vessel shows up — followed by the Russian one. «So General Atomics, a Swiss corporation American controlled, claimed the Moon. The Federation couldn't brush them off and grab it; the Russians wouldn't have held still. So the High Court ruled that a corporate person, a mere legal fiction, could not own a planet; the real owners were the men who maintained occupation — Larkin and associates. So they recognized them as a sovereign nation and took them into the Federation — with melon slicing for those on the inside and concessions to General Atomics and its daughter corporation, Lunar Enterprises. This did not please anybody and the Federation High Court was not all-powerful then — but it was a compromise everybody could swallow. It resulted in rules for colonizing planets, all based on the Larkin Decision and intended to avoid bloodshed. Worked, too — World War Three did Jill shook her head. «I don't see the connection.» «Think, Jill. By our laws, Smith is a sovereign nation — and sole owner of the planet Mars.» |
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