"Bc29" - читать интересную книгу автора (Niven Larry & Pournelle)

"What's the tally?"
"Nine tonnes of refined ore--Deadwood is running fine. Zack should be happy."
She noticed that the conversation had died down. Everyone understood the question behind the question.
Edgar Sikes said, "Nobody has the remotest idea what happened in Deadwood Pass. We've analyzed from every angle. Whatever killed Linda and Joe was just gone. We haven't a clue. We shipped in a grendel-proof shelter and sealed it and installed air tanks. It should stop anything."
"Best bet?"
"Eh. Some sort of gas cloud," Edgar said. "Volcanic origin, something that acted like an acid."
"But wasn't an acid?"
"Certainly didn't leave acidic traces. But that's the way it acted, and that's what we have to assume."
He dipped his finger in water and drew on the table. "Look here. The best guess we have is that the wind blowing up over the mountains carried a pocket of caustic gas with it. It hit them before they had any chance at all."
"And Cadzie?"
He bared his teeth. "Don't know. Best guess is that she sealed the baby in the blanket. The acid cloud passed before it could leak in. But Aaron's sure it was something alive, something that veers away from Cadzie blue."
"Sealed it airtight? Against something that ate the flesh from their bones, and left no trace? You believe this?"
" . . . No," he said. His plump, babyish face was tight with frustration. "But I don't believe in an invisible monster either!"
"Monsters from the id," someone sang.
"Oh, shut up. Anyway, we've combed the area. Dirt, rock, and soil samples. We found nothing out of the ordinary. The usual decomposed leaves, crushed rock, animal droppings, and general crud that makes dirt anywhere."
"Animal droppings?" Chaka asked, his interest roused. "What kind of animal?"
"We don't know," he said. "Not turds, more like a fine dry mist of concentrated shit sprayed over everything. Aaron was sure it was something alive. You hear about that?"
"Yeah."
"The Scribe has a blue lip. There are other Avalon plants and animals that use blue to signal poison. I found four in Cadmann's garden at the Stronghold! We looked hard at that slice of skin Aaron cut, and it really is poisonous. But Cadzie blue is a darker color."
Chaka brooded. "Dammit, Edgar, it's such a neat notion." He suddenly grinned. "And Aaron is so massively embarrassed."
Like wind passing over a wheat field, heads turned toward Aaron . . . who was apparently half-asleep.
Edgar said, "We have a piece of the lip itself. We have views through several sets of war specs. We have Justin's flash photographs. Cadzie blue is darker."
"Why don't you let me take a look at that stuff you collected?"
"Well . . . all right, Chaka. Right after dinner?"

Chaka smeared a trace of the dropping sample on an analyzer sheet, and ran it into tile kiln.
"What are you looking for?" Justin asked.
"I don't know. But Pop considers it to be the largest threat to the colony."
Aaron nodded. Somewhat to Justin's surprise, Aaron had wanted to come over, had cut his participation in the revelry short.
Columns of numbers danced in the air as the computer began its analysis.
Aaron ran his finger through the air next to the column. "Phosphorus, carbon. Lots of nitrogen."
Justin asked, "As much as you would expect from a carnivore?"
"Sure. Urea--"
"And this stuff, it's what a mammal would turn urea into. Unless it's a hominid," Chaka said. "This matches what we know of Avalon biology."
"Not grendel, though?"
"No, not grendel. Way less water, for one thing." Chaka muttered under his breath to Cassandra, and the images of the droppings expanded. "It's like dust. And . . . there's more than one kind here. Lots of animal life up there, nothing very large."
"Could be barking up the wrong tree."
"Wrong damn forest. I can't tell anything until we match the droppings with the animal samples that we have currently, and keep going. We might be able to determine a phylum. I doubt if we can get closer than that."
"Hell of a riddle," Aaron said. He looked troubled. "I know what I want to do. I want to take a look on the west side of that mountain ridge. There's something over there. Volcanic? Organic? Don't know. But something on that mountain somewhere killed two people, and I want to find out what it was."
"What about Stu's funeral?" Justin asked.
Aaron nodded. "Tomorrow morning. But before Robor arrives. Stu was Star Born, and we'll mourn him privately."

All eighty-five of Shangri-La's Star Born were crowded into the main recreation hall. The eighty-sixth was buried out on the Scribeveldt, his grave marked by a pile of stone as tall as a man, and recorded to the centimeter in Cassandra's files.
Katya walked somberly to the southeast corner of the rec room, and placed a foot-tall wooden plaque against the wall. With eight clean hammer-strokes she nailed it to the wall. On it were two lines of etched letters. The first read: STU ELLINGTON. Beneath it, GREATER LOVE HATH NO MAN.
There was another plaque on that wall. TOSHIRO TANAKA. REST WELL, SENSEI.
She returned to the front of the hail, and stood beside Justin.
Aaron Tragon stood before them. He wore a dark shirt and pants. His flaxen hair lay down around his shoulders. He gazed out at their assembled faces, and began to speak.
"Most of those who have fulfilled this duty before me," he said, his voice swelling to fill the room, "have commended the institution of the eulogy. It is good, they have said, that solemn words should be spoken over our fallen friends. I disagree. Acts deserve acts, not words."
Someone behind Katya said, "Amen to that."
"But I can offer no act to equal that of Stuart Ellington. So it is with apologies to our fallen friend that I offer only words. We cannot understand Stu's sacrifice merely by considering the life he saved, or the life he lost in so saving. We must look to the sacrifices made to conquer Avalon, the world which we have inherited, with all of its terrors and treasures.