"Campbell, John W Jr - The Double_Minds" - читать интересную книгу автора (Campbell John W Jr)

Penton was dashing madly about the floor picking up something, while the unspeakable dirty-whiteness was dashing about twice as madly-and abruptly dashed out of the window shrieking and gurgling unhappily.
"Well-maybe it's-all for the-best. That's hard work-here. Bending like that."
"What in the name of the Nine Wavering Worlds got into that thing?" asked Blake. "It acted as though the floor were red hot, and every time it hit it jumped higher."
"Copper," said Penton, "and magnesium. I wondered what pH value their metabolism used. Evidently it's greater than seven rather than less. But zinc does well enough, and they can get that. Copper though is expensive."
*It may make sense, but I don't see it. Where's P'holkuun?"
"Coming back now. His men were stationed outside to catch that thing when it got loose. I-here he is."
P'holkuun stuck his great head in. He looked about the very dimly lighted room.
"It went out very quickly. I thought it might have broken away and succeeded in attacking you as we had ordered it. The men have chased it two blocks now, and it is still going very rapidly. It refuses to obey at all."
"That's fine." Penton smiled. "Did it attack anyone?"
"The first one who tried to stop it. It simply rolled over him, and hastened away. What is this weapon?"
"Make me as many hundreds of these machines as you possibly can, P'holkuun, and I will take the palace with a dozen Lanoor."
Penton held out a web of wiring, a pancake of interwoven coppery and silvery wires nearly eighteen inches across. The intricate hookup of wires led into a small, solid, egg-shaped mass at the heart of the network, an ovoid of black, plastic material.
"You can make a great many, I think. And remember to make that whole device exactly as I have, changing no slightest detail, particularly as to the constitution of the central mass. Is it understood?"
"I will." P'holkuun looked somewhat wide-eyed at the savage little device that had sent the utterly fearless, nerveless defender of the Lanoorian peace scuttling out the window in such terror that it absolutely refused to obey orders.
IV THE WHITE FLOWERS
P'HOLKUUN HALTED. Ahead, the narrow corridor cut through the solid rock turned, and beyond the turn it was a passageway lined with cut stone mortared in place.
"We enter the palace soon. No Lanoor is supposed to
know of this corridor, as I say, and to prevent suspicion, the Shaloor station no Lanoor guards, and do not so much as guard it themselves. But they have men watching this night beyond that wall. They are suspicious-almost know that rebellion is starting. For four days now, you have been free, and they have not heard from you, have seen no sign of your existence. They believe you have obtained help, but they have received no word of a general uprising. And"- he looked at Penton from the corner of his eyes, rather doubtfully-"they know that no dozen men can take their palace, or menace them."
"Yes. They also know that no man can stand against a shleath, or any save a Shaloor order him. They know a great many things. A most surprising number of those things are all wrong. Is there a door ahead?"
"Yes. Locked, with a heavy steel bolt. But-you said you could open that."
Penton smiled and nodded to Blake. Blake shifted two dozen of the flat, woven webs he carried to the dozen or so Lanoor who had accompanied them, each man rearranging the webs he already carried to take on the extra. Then the Earthman went forward.
The door was a secret panel on the other side, but from here it was obvious enough. A panel of thick, dense wood, a dark green, no doubt polished beautifully on the other side that opened into the main hall of the palace.
But from this side it was rough, and studded with locking mechanisms. Two heavy steel hinges supported it, and a series of three steel bars a half inch thick, operated by levers in the manner of a bank-vault lock, held it in place with all the rigidity of the surrounding wall. No careless hand could detect it from the far side.
Blake wrapped his fingers about the bars, braced his feet solidly, and pulled slowly, with greater and greater force. The mild steel gave under the strain, and slowly the bar backed out of the socket that held it.
Just before it was free, Blake transferred his attention to the second, and then to the third. The Lanoorians listened
to his panting breath, and watched the writhing muscles in silent awe. The Earthman was to them as unnatural as a superintelligent gorilla would be to Earthmen.
Blake backed off and rested, till his heavy panting in the thin air of the little planet quieted. Finally he stood up again, and nodded.
"Ready, I guess. Now, once more, what will we have to look out for, P'holkuun?"
"They have guns, mostly air-powered guns. They are almost noiseless, there is no smoke, the source of the shot cannot be detected. But they will not shoot through heavy cloth. The explosion guns do. First they will try the sleep-gas, until they see that we are immune, thanks to your discovery that a series of five doses made a man safe. Then- the White Flowers."
"Just what are the 'White Flowers?" asked Penton.
P'holkuun shrugged his shoulders.
"They used it only once. They are afraid of it themselves, so they will be reluctant to try it. It is a mold that turns a healthy man into a moldering, putrescent corpse in thirty seconds. The flesh falls from his bones in white lumps. And anything that touches him, or passes near, within thirty hours-follows him! So, if you see a man turn white, and hear his scream-there is no need to help such a one. Leave him quickly. And we must go quickly now. I know the way we are to go, all my men here do. You must stay with us; if you cannot, seek the innermost court."
"Good. Go ahead, Blake," said Penton. "I'll take the lower half." Together, the two Earthmen approached the door, and took hold. The steel bars popped from their sockets with a vast droning clatter, to vibrate like plucked reeds. Immediately the two men jumped through the opened door, the Lanoorians behind them. The great central hall was bright with the glow-lights, and a half-dozen Shaloor were streaking across the room toward them, drawing their gas-guns as they came.
A shrill cry was spreading through the palace, echoing from room to room. Feet began running in unseen passages,
and somewhere women's shriller voices called out. Two La-noor servants appeared momentarily, their eyes opening in surprise at the sight, then narrowing in sudden concentration as they vanished into familiar passages.
Blake's arm flung back. A rounded, nicely weighted stone flew from it with the super Lanoorian force a Terrestrial could give it. An attacking Shaloor doubled with a howl of pain and an instant later another fell with a little groan, the side of his head crushed in. Gas bombs fell about them as P'holkuun led the way to a branching, wood-paneled corridor on the far side of the room.
"They will concentrate to defend the inner court, since it is known that you have come," P'holkuun called back. "Hurry."
A pair of Lanoorians had spread out behind them, and their swords were flashing in efficient butchery. The Shaloor were vanishing now, into the various rabbit-warren passages.
P'holkuun led them at a sharp run down the passage, past a dozen intersecting warrens and into a smaller passage.
"P'holkuun!" a strange low voice warned softly. "Not that way, the gates will close. Turn aside. The third-right." Feet vanished. P'holkuun halted in indecision.
"I wonder if that was a Shaloor?" he asked unhappily.
"It was my cousin!" exclaimed one of the Lanoor. "He is a secretary-"
They took the third to the right.
"But I am lost now," P'holkuun muttered. "I do not know this route. Why didn't he join us to help-"
From a room on one side a Lanoor stepped out.
"You'd probably have shot me by mistake. Come." The man had two of the air-guns, and a blood-stained sword. "They are gathered to defend the great inner court. They have closed all entrances with steel grills, save the one that they want you to take, the S'logth gate. That is open-open for the shleaih. What do you hope to do?"
"Lead us there." Penton smiled. "The sooner we reach the shleath, the better. What weapons have they?"
The Lanoor shifted his slight weight to his right foot.
"Some strange things they found on the ship of the strangers. A little thing, like a pistol, or sleep-gas thrower. But it throws nothing, only light, and not bright light at that. A Shaloor died handling it, and they made two Lanoor find out the secret. Now they have twenty. There is another thing they will use if they must, but they fear it, for none of us have been able to make it work without terrific explosions. But the explosions destroy what they hit, so they may use it even so."
"Damn," said Penton softly. "They can stop the shleath with the ultra-violet pistols. And the atomic bullet guns. They might go so far as to attack the ship with them. Not even the ship could stand one of those atomic bullets. Thank God they're still more afraid of them than we are. All we can do is try. They won't know just what they are doing, and we may still get away with it.