"Keith Laumer - Hybrid" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laumer Keith)

Hybrid
By Keith Laumer

Deep in the soil of the planet, rootlets tougher than steel wire probed
among glassy sand grains, through packed veins of clay and layers of
flimsy slate, sensing and discarding inert elements, seeking out
calcium, iron, nitrogen.
Deeper still, a secondary system of roots clutched the massive face of
the bedrock; sensitive tendrils monitored the minute trembling in the
planetary crust, the rhythmic tidal pressures, the seasonal weight of
ice, the footfalls of the wild creatures that hunted in the mile-wide
shadow of the giant Yanda tree.
On the surface far above, the immense trunk, massive as a cliff, its
vast girth anchored by mighty buttresses, reared up nine hundred yards
above the prominence, spreading huge limbs in the white sunlight.
The tree was only remotely aware of the movement of air over the
polished surfaces of innumerable leaves, the tingling exchange of
molecules of water, carbon dioxide, oxygen. Automatically it reacted to
the faint pressures of the wind, tensing slender twigs to hold each
leaf at a constant angle to the radiation that struck down through the
foliage complex.
The long day wore on. Air flowed in intricate patterns; radiation waxed
and waned with the drift of vapor masses in the substratosphere;
nutrient molecules moved along capillaries; the rocks groaned gently in
the dark under the shaded slopes. In the invulnerability of its titanic
mass,┬╖the tree dozed in a state of generalized low-level consciousness.
The sun moved westward, Its light, filtered through an increasing depth
of atmosphere, was an ominous yellow now. Sinewy twigs rotated,
following the source of energy. Somnobntly, the tree retracted tender
buds against the increasing cold, adjusted its rate of heat and
moisture loss, its receptivity to radiation. As it slept, it dreamed of
the long past, the years of free-wandering in the faunal stage, before
the instinct to root and grow had driven it here. It remembered the
grove of its youth, the patriarchal tree, the sporebrothers.
...
It was dark now. The wind was rising. A powerful gust pressed against
the ponderous obstacle of the tree; great thews of major branches
creaked, resisting; chilled leaves curled tight against the smooth
bark.
Deep underground, fibres hugged rock, transmitting data which were
correlated with impressions from distant leaf surfaces. There were
ominous vibrations from the northeast; relative humidity was rising,
air pressure falling--a pattern formed, signalling danger. The tree
stirred; a tremor ran through the mighty branch system, shattering
fragile frost crystals that had begun to form on shaded surfaces.
Alertness stirred in the heart-brain, dissipating the euphoric
dreampattern. Reluctantly, long dormant faculties came into play. The
tree awoke.
Instantly, it assessed the situation. A storm was moving in off the
sea--a major typhoon. It was too late for effective measures. Ignoring