"Blish, James - Mission To The Heart Stars" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blish James)
'That's for getting through the water,' Sandbag objected. 'But land animals come in all kinds of models.'
'Not really. They all have bilateral symmetry, brains at the front end, sense organs close to the brain, and so on. And the most highly evolved specimens of each type tend to assume the erect position so as to free the front limbs. That's true of all birds; then there's the kangaroo, the tyrannosaur - and, of course, Man. And the convergence goes deep inside, too. I'll bet that if we could see an autopsy of a Ss'podan, we'd find that he's got a pteropsid circulatory system - venous circulation completely separated from the arterial except where the change-over is made in the lungs. On the other hand, gentlemen, let me repeat my warning about eating anything but our own stores while we're on Ss'pode. Not that their food would poison us, but we'd starve to death on it.'
'I still don't understand why,' Sandbag said.
'Because all the amino acid molecules on this planet turn a beam of light passed through them to the right,' Dr Langer said patiently. 'All Earthly life uses the left-handed aminos. It's an invisible difference, but it's much more important than whether you have two arms like a man or eight like an octopus.'
The visible differences were startling enough for Jack. The masters of Ss'pode were an ancient race, and an immensely wealthy one. Their wealth, and the fact that only one person in every ten thousand had to do any work at all, had produced a culture so formal, elegant, and glittering as to make ancient Byzantium look like a used-car lot. Wherever one turned in the streets or halls of Ss'pode, one saw a bewildering kaleidoscope, and the other senses were as easily confused. Everywhere there was jewellery, perfumes, music, ritual, dance, fabrics of every possible texture and hue, elaborate coiffures, formal gardens, outlandish architecture, fads and fripperies and furbelows in the luxurious abundance possible only to a rich and highly educated people with nothing to think about but amusing itself.
But of all the oddities of Ss'pode, the one Jack found hardest to adjust to was the fact that he could never tell what he was looking at or talking to. The Ss'podans had long ago solved their population problem by the most direct and the most brutal method: compulsory sterilization of everyone except those who filled the steadily dwindling number of productive jobs.
One outcome was that everyone dressed as he chose and went about masked. Since a deep voice was not, on Ss'pode, a secondary sex characteristic of the male, the sex of casual acquaintances - and of public figures as well - could easily be disguised, and always was. It made no difference in an almost wholly sterile society which had abolished the family.
Maybe so. But the whole system struck Jack as hopelessly comic and possible only to a people already almost out of its collective mind with boredom. Masquerades with many resemblances to this one had often evolved on Earth, and many, such as the Fasching, the Mardi Gras, and the Carnival had proved remarkably durable. But to live one's whole life on such a basis seemed more than a little hysterical. Kicking over the traces, he thought, is something everyone would like to do. I could stand it then and now; but always? Never!
The masquerade was only one facet of a code of Ss'podan manners so elaborate that no one could hope to master even its rudiments without having been born on Ss'pode and having spent every minute since soaking it in - almost through the pores. Furthermore, it was subject to change without notice, the changes sweeping around the planet five or ten times a year, a froth riding atop the capricious combers of fashion.
For this reason, they were assigned a combination guide and guardian, a minor noble, the Banish of Bane, whose name - not the full name but the only part of it they could pronounce - was Baxx Terr and whose gender was, as usual, a mystery. Dr Langer and the cadets spoke of the Banish, when out of the guide's presence, as 'he' simply for the sake of convenience. In any event, it was always easy enough to address the Banish of Bane as 'you'.
It was part of Baxx Terr's assignment to shepherd the Earthmen through their many inevitable social gaffes and to protect them from the coldly polite rage of the many Ss'podans they were bound to insult. For this purpose, he donned a sapphire velvet headband which centred on his forehead a black jewel rather like a glorified lump of coal, a sign that he was a member of the Ss'podan equivalent to the medical profession, a class deemed exempt from the codes of politeness by virtue of the often urgent nature of their errands. The Earthmen were none too sure that they understood Baxx Terr's explanation of this, for his description of the class involved seemed to suggest that it was as much law-enforcing as it was healing. This, in any event, was one of the most important of several dozen reasons why the Earthmen themselves could not wear the headband.
The fact that the Banish of Bane himself did not belong to this profession did not seem to make any difference. As an aristocrat, he could profess any art, so long as it was thoroughly understood that he was above them all. But Jack strongly suspected that this fact might go some distance towards explaining why his description of the profession was so hard to follow.
And, of course, Dr Langer and the cadets did breach the codes, often and horrendously; but somehow, even the worst of these social breaks did not produce the consternation or outrage that they had been led to expect. Nor was this entirely and only because Baxx Terr was fronting for them. There were several occasions wherein their transgressions had been obviously wholly inexcusable under even the most lax of Ss'podan interpretations. Yet the Ss'podans had only giggled appreciatively and, on one such occasion, even seemed to be congratulating the Banish of Bane.
Only a few such incidents were necessary to confirm in the minds of the visitors a suspicion that they had formed even earlier: that their social awkwardness was part of their charm, or maybe even all of the charm they had, as far as Ss'pode was concerned. They were looked upon as amusing barbarians and were being used by a jaded society purely for their entertainment value. It was Dr Langer's hypothesis that the Banish of Bane must recently have done his government some useful but not highly important service, for which he had been rewarded by being made the impresario for this troupe of off-world clowns. Clearly, on a world where almost everyone was bored almost all of the time, a man who could introduce a new form of entertainment would find his social status heightened considerably.
To be treated by a planet presumably high in the hierarchy of the Heart Stars simply as though they were trained bears seemed to Jack to be the ultimate insult. Not even the virtually all-powerful Angels had been half so patronizing. Sandbag obviously felt the same way; in private, he muttered and fumed like a boiling kettle.
Not even Dr Langer could be completely stoical about it, but he said only, 'Keep your shirt on, Jerry. I agree with you. I think these fancy-breeches have got us dead wrong. In a way, that suits me; I think we're getting to see more this way than we would if they were wary about us. And bear in mind that they might instead be entirely right about us. Whichever is true, we're going to have to play it absolutely deadpan. We've still got a long way to go, and we're not going to get there by losing our tempers.'
That Ss'pode stood relatively high in the councils of the Heart Stars was an unavoidable assumption. The antiquity and social stability of its people were as evident on the surface as the wealth of the planet and its political power among the several nearest solar systems were equally undeniable. Furthermore, beneath the rich fabric of Ss'podan society there was considerable iron, as was shown by the absolute obedience of all the rest of the population to the timocracy that ruled it. In addition, some of the iron was hardware of the most unmistakable sort. Though Ss'pode had no visible or expectable enemies, it obviously supported a tremendous war machine, suitable for carrying on anything from a small harassing operation to utter destruction over large interstellar distances.
The paradox so provoked Dr Langer's curiosity that he asked Baxx Terr about it, which seemed to Jack to be rather dangerous; but perhaps the Doctor was counting upon his privileged status as a clown outside the codes to bridge any chasm he might have been treading near.
'On our planet we used to pile up armaments for only three reasons: because we had enemies we were afraid of; because we needed the arms industry to support a creaking economic system; or because we were planning to go out and attack somebody. All those reasons are now obsolete for us and must have been obsolete for you for many thousands of years. Why then, do you need all this armament? Isn't it a burden to you?'
The Banish of Bane laughed lightly, proving still again that Earthmen were never likely to understand the Ss'podan sense of humour.
'No, it is not a burden. As you say, our economy can support it without strain. We have some primitives who find it morally questionable, but I have little patience with them. After all, everyone must die and always under circumstances which he finds inconvenient. What can it matter what the manner of his death is? And what can it matter to one person how many other people happen to die by the same means? Everyone, in the last analysis, dies alone, even though millions may also die in the very same incident. His death is not multiplied by theirs; his is still, to him, the only death that counts.'
'But don't you find it aesthetically offensive?' Dr Langer went on. 'After all, the same explosion that destroys a planet also destroys all its accumulated art works. I should think that would be very important to you, no matter how you felt about the still-living people who were extinguished at the same time.'
'But there again - we are not overwhelmingly interested in primitive art. Occasionally it comes back into fashion, but invariably it is so inexpressive of any but the rawest kinds of emotion and meaning that no one with even the rudiments of good taste pays any attention to it once its novelty has become an old story.'
'All right,' Dr Langer said, rather more grimly than Jack thought he had intended. 'But that still leaves my question. What is the use of this war machine? Why do you have it at all?'
'But you don't need it. What happens if the Hegemony decides to make war on someone else? You're still required to participate, aren't you?'
'Yes,' Baxx Terr said. 'But the relationship is complicated. Forgive me, but I fear you will never understand it.'
Dr Langer did not respond, but his expression told Jack plainly that he thought he understood it all too well.
It was when their time on the planet was at last up that Ss'podan society really showed its teeth - characteristically in a polite and indulgent smile. The Ss'podans had observed the re-commissioning of the Argo without any hindrance or even any comment.
But when Dr Langer and the cadets went to make their formal good-byes to the Banish of Bane, he said:
'I have a happy surprise for you. I did not tell you about it before because something might well have prevented it at the last minute. But now it is official.'
Dr Langer, his face expressionless, managed to make a noise of polite inquiry without actually saying anything.
'You will be pleased to hear,' Baxx Terr said, 'that the peoples I have taken you to visit liked you almost on sight, and they became even more fond of you as your stay continued. When it became known that you were preparing to leave, they petitioned our Council for permission to keep you. The reply was slow in coming, since our Council also has important things on its mind, as I am sure you will appreciate. However, it arrived this morning and it is favourable. Permission has been granted!'
Sandbag's long-standing irritation with the Ss'podan attitude, never under very good control, responded to this ultimate test with a loud bang.
'Keep us?' he growled, turning bright red. 'Like pets? Or zoo animals? That's the most...'
Dr Langer raised his right hand sharply and Sandbag's explosion was chopped off short. His voice as cold as his face, the older man spoke.
'We thank the Lord of Bane and his kind peoples, but I am afraid the proposal is quite out of the question. We must go-.'
Even behind the mask, it was plain that Baxx Terr was thunderstruck. Apparently the possibility that the Earthmen might refuse had never even entered his head.
'But you have everything to gain,' he said at last. There is nothing ahead for you but a long dreary trip, with an unknown reception at the end of it. I can assure you that when you get to where you are going, you will not like it. We, on the other hand, are a civilized society, as even you can see, and we have done you an honour. It is only your youth and impetuousness - endearing in themselves - which prevent you from seeing this.'
'It is more than that. It is a sense of obligation,' Dr Langer said carefully. 'We have been sent on this trip by the peoples of our planet, and we have contracted with the Hegemony to complete it in accordance with the route specified.'
'It does you credit that you feel this loyalty to your species,' the Banish of Bane said. 'It is one of the qualities which has made you so attractive to us. But clearly you will be doing them no disservice by staying here. As for the Hegemony, you are really not equipped to deal with that. We will take care of that side of the question; you need not concern yourself about it in the least.'
'I am afraid that it is you who do not understand,' Dr Langer said. 'We are obligated to go on, and that is what we wish to do. We do not want to violate that obligation and have the violation squared for us by somebody else. Among our people that's a specific sin called "fixing a ticket".'
Baxx Terr turned to the cadets. 'Surely reason must prevail somewhere among you,' he said. 'While you have been among us, you have been clothed, housed, entertained, protected and pampered, almost better than a native creature of Ss'pode. You have seen wonders beyond the powers of your home to produce or even to understand. You have been shown every possible kindness. Can you deny this?'
The question carried Jack's memory back instantly to the conversation that he and Sandbag and Sylvia McCrary had had with the dolphin in the pool before the UN Building. For the first time, he thoroughly understood the reply that Tursiops had given to Sylvia's casually crucial question. And it was the only possible reply to the Banish of Bane.
'No,' he said. 'But I can remember greater happiness.'
The masked eyes swung to Sandbag. 'And you?'
'I'm having a lot of trouble even being polite about this,' Sandbag said, his lips white. 'All I'll say is, I don't see much of a future for us on a planet where the food is poison to us.'
'A bagatelle,' Baxx Terr said, with the odd little flourish of his hands that was the Ss'podan equivalent of a shrug when one was talking to children or animals. 'Since even your primitive little kennel of a world knows about stereoisomerism, do you think it beyond the capacity of ancient Ss'pode to reverse it at will? A naive notion, to say the least.'
Dr Langer spoke again. 'It is not a bagatelle. My cadets are right. The dextro-rotatory amino acids are a symbol of the liberty that Cadet Loftus was speaking for. We will not have it abrogated for any form of luxury and kindness whatsoever. We must live among our own customs and on our own foods, alike. We must proceed, with thanks, for we know you mean us no ill.'
| © 2025 Библиотека RealLib.org (support [a t] reallib.org) |