"Babylon 5 Genius Loci page 5" - читать интересную книгу автора (Babylon 5)

Babylon 5 Genius Loci page 5
This is G o o g l e's cache of http://www.glasstattoo.net/GeniusLoci5.htm.
G o o g l e's cache is the snapshot that we took of the page as we crawled the web.
The page may have changed since that time. Click here for the current page without highlighting.

Google is not affiliated with the authors of this page nor responsible for its content.
Genius Loci
by J. Michael Straczynski
page 5
     The elder smiled back. "Just one?"
     "Yes," G'Kar said, and fixed the elder with a gaze that he hoped would penetrate whatever was between him and what he was actually looking at.  "Who are you?" he asked. "Who are you… really?" "… and that was the last we saw of our ship."  The man speaking had identified himself as Nathan Delcompte, first officer of the Psi Corps mothership they had found dead in hyperspace.  He had the uniform (now kept in a box beneath the crude wooden bed) and the documents to prove it.
     Others had been assembled in the modified life pod that they used as a meeting room, each confirming the other's story, just as Samuel had promised.  So far the place seemed to be everything it was advertised to be.
     And yet… and yet there was something that troubled her.  Perhaps it was the way in which their stories so closely corroborated one another.  For all their ability, teeps were no more perfect or consistent than mundanes; they saw things in different ways, at different times, and interpreted those things in uniquely personal ways.
     Yet all the stories she had been told since arriving had a curious sameness about them… as if they had been coached, or …
     She frowned and took a bite from another of the exotic-looking fruits in the bowl in front of her.  It was delicious, but she felt scarcely less hungry when she had eaten the first one.  However, that was a minor matter; something here wasn't adding up, and she couldn't put her finger on it.
     You know what to do about it, she thought to herself.  What only you can do.  She shook her head.  That she  could do it wasn't the issue; she didn't want to do it.  But under the circumstances, she couldn't see any other solution.
     With her Vorlon-augmented abilities, Lyta could touch another telepath's mind, even a P12, and leave no trace of ever having been there.  The thought did not cheer her; this place, if it was what it appeared, embodied all the things she said she believed in, all the things she believed she was fighting for… a place where the privacy of all telepaths would be respected.  To get the information she needed, she would have to violate that privacy.  That they wouldn't know it was happening was not the point; she would know she was doing it.
     She didn't like it.  But it was necessary.
     Funny how quickly Paradise passes away in the face of personal convenience, she thought.
Hating herself for doing it, she reached out and touched the thought of the man who had just finished speaking.  Just a gentle surface scan…
She reeled back from the contact.  There was nothing there!  But that was impossible, it was---
      He turned, met her gaze, and suddenly the mental pattern appeared in her thoughts, like a light switch being turned on again.  But not even a highly trained telepath could simply turn his neural patterns on and off like that.  They had been not there, then they had been there.
     And as she caught the impression of his mind, she realized something else: It was familiar.
     Every mindpoint is as individual and distinct as every fingerprint; no two are alike.  Telepaths are taught to recognize such patterns instantly in order to find each other in large crowds, and to sense potential enemies.
     But the pattern she detected in this new mind was identical with the pattern of Samuel's mind.
     As she widened her probe, she felt the mental patterns snapping on in all the people in the room.  All the same.  Identical.
     One mind.  Not many minds.  One mind.
     She found Samuel's face in the crowd.
     "Who are you ?" she said.  "Who are you?" "I don't believe I understand what you are asking," the elder said.
     "Of course you do," G'Kar said.  "For every Narn, there is no greater imperative than the need to return home.  It's understandable that an outsider, however well informed-telepathically, perhaps?-would not know that.  It's not in our history, it's not something we think about-it's who and what we are.  The need to return home is in our blood and our bones and our emotional makeup.
     "A true Narn would never say what you just said, never write off the homeworld, never concede even the possibility of extinction.  Therefore, although you look like a Narn, you cannot be a Narn.  From this I can only conclude that what I am seeing… is not what is.  And if you are not what you appear, then I must wonder how much else is real.  This room, this table, perhaps even the fruit which I believe I am holding in my hand… but which almost certainly does not exist any more than you do."
     The elder-or what appeared to him as the elder-regarded him silently for a moment before speaking.  "you do not seem concerned by this conclusion of yours."
     "Concerned? No.  Troubled? Yes.  I wonder how many came before me, how many others have seen what you wanted them to see, eaten what they thought was nutritious food that did not, in fact, exist… causing them to starve to death without ever realizing what was happening."
     The elder rose, limbs that had previously appeared infirm now strong.  He approached G'Kar and met his gaze.  G'Kar did not look away.  "You are a most remarkable Narn," he said.
     G'Kar shrugged.  "So I am told."
     "In the time of my existence, few have ever discovered what you have just discovered, and then only in the last moments of their lives.  You are the first-"
page  1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8
 Glass Tattoo


Babylon 5 Genius Loci page 5
This is G o o g l e's cache of http://www.glasstattoo.net/GeniusLoci5.htm.
G o o g l e's cache is the snapshot that we took of the page as we crawled the web.
The page may have changed since that time. Click here for the current page without highlighting.

Google is not affiliated with the authors of this page nor responsible for its content.
Genius Loci
by J. Michael Straczynski
page 5
     The elder smiled back. "Just one?"
     "Yes," G'Kar said, and fixed the elder with a gaze that he hoped would penetrate whatever was between him and what he was actually looking at.  "Who are you?" he asked. "Who are you… really?" "… and that was the last we saw of our ship."  The man speaking had identified himself as Nathan Delcompte, first officer of the Psi Corps mothership they had found dead in hyperspace.  He had the uniform (now kept in a box beneath the crude wooden bed) and the documents to prove it.
     Others had been assembled in the modified life pod that they used as a meeting room, each confirming the other's story, just as Samuel had promised.  So far the place seemed to be everything it was advertised to be.
     And yet… and yet there was something that troubled her.  Perhaps it was the way in which their stories so closely corroborated one another.  For all their ability, teeps were no more perfect or consistent than mundanes; they saw things in different ways, at different times, and interpreted those things in uniquely personal ways.
     Yet all the stories she had been told since arriving had a curious sameness about them… as if they had been coached, or …
     She frowned and took a bite from another of the exotic-looking fruits in the bowl in front of her.  It was delicious, but she felt scarcely less hungry when she had eaten the first one.  However, that was a minor matter; something here wasn't adding up, and she couldn't put her finger on it.
     You know what to do about it, she thought to herself.  What only you can do.  She shook her head.  That she  could do it wasn't the issue; she didn't want to do it.  But under the circumstances, she couldn't see any other solution.
     With her Vorlon-augmented abilities, Lyta could touch another telepath's mind, even a P12, and leave no trace of ever having been there.  The thought did not cheer her; this place, if it was what it appeared, embodied all the things she said she believed in, all the things she believed she was fighting for… a place where the privacy of all telepaths would be respected.  To get the information she needed, she would have to violate that privacy.  That they wouldn't know it was happening was not the point; she would know she was doing it.
     She didn't like it.  But it was necessary.
     Funny how quickly Paradise passes away in the face of personal convenience, she thought.
Hating herself for doing it, she reached out and touched the thought of the man who had just finished speaking.  Just a gentle surface scan…
She reeled back from the contact.  There was nothing there!  But that was impossible, it was---
      He turned, met her gaze, and suddenly the mental pattern appeared in her thoughts, like a light switch being turned on again.  But not even a highly trained telepath could simply turn his neural patterns on and off like that.  They had been not there, then they had been there.
     And as she caught the impression of his mind, she realized something else: It was familiar.
     Every mindpoint is as individual and distinct as every fingerprint; no two are alike.  Telepaths are taught to recognize such patterns instantly in order to find each other in large crowds, and to sense potential enemies.
     But the pattern she detected in this new mind was identical with the pattern of Samuel's mind.
     As she widened her probe, she felt the mental patterns snapping on in all the people in the room.  All the same.  Identical.
     One mind.  Not many minds.  One mind.
     She found Samuel's face in the crowd.
     "Who are you ?" she said.  "Who are you?" "I don't believe I understand what you are asking," the elder said.
     "Of course you do," G'Kar said.  "For every Narn, there is no greater imperative than the need to return home.  It's understandable that an outsider, however well informed-telepathically, perhaps?-would not know that.  It's not in our history, it's not something we think about-it's who and what we are.  The need to return home is in our blood and our bones and our emotional makeup.
     "A true Narn would never say what you just said, never write off the homeworld, never concede even the possibility of extinction.  Therefore, although you look like a Narn, you cannot be a Narn.  From this I can only conclude that what I am seeing… is not what is.  And if you are not what you appear, then I must wonder how much else is real.  This room, this table, perhaps even the fruit which I believe I am holding in my hand… but which almost certainly does not exist any more than you do."
     The elder-or what appeared to him as the elder-regarded him silently for a moment before speaking.  "you do not seem concerned by this conclusion of yours."
     "Concerned? No.  Troubled? Yes.  I wonder how many came before me, how many others have seen what you wanted them to see, eaten what they thought was nutritious food that did not, in fact, exist… causing them to starve to death without ever realizing what was happening."
     The elder rose, limbs that had previously appeared infirm now strong.  He approached G'Kar and met his gaze.  G'Kar did not look away.  "You are a most remarkable Narn," he said.
     G'Kar shrugged.  "So I am told."
     "In the time of my existence, few have ever discovered what you have just discovered, and then only in the last moments of their lives.  You are the first-"
page  1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8
 Glass Tattoo