"Norton, Andre - Galactic Derelict" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

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snapped on his earphones once more as the com came to life.
With one hand he steadied a pad on his knee and wrote in
quick dashes.
Travis studied the shadows on the cliffs. It wasn't far from sundown now, and he was growing
impatient. This was like being in a theater waiting for the curtain to go up--or lying in wait for
trouble to come pounding around some bend when you had a rifle in hand.
Ashe took the scribbled page from Grant, checked it against more scribbles in his notebook. Ross
was chewing on a long stem of grass, relaxed, outwardly almost sleepy. Yet Travis suspected that if
he were to make a wrong move, Ross would come very wide awake in an instant.
"You know this country must have been popping once," Ross commented lazily. "That looks like a
regular apartment house over there--with maybe a hundred, two hundred people living in it. How
did they live, anyway? This is a small valley." "There's another valley to the northwest with
irrigation ditches still marked," Travis replied. "And they hunted-- turkey, deer, antelope, even
buffalo--if they were lucky."
"Now if a man had some way to look back into history he could learn a lot--"
"You mean by using an infra-red Vis-Tex?" Travis asked with careful casualness, and had the
satisfaction of seeing the other's cairn crack. Then he laughed, with an edge on his humor. "We
Indians don't wear blankets or feathers in our hair any more, and some of us read and watch TV, and

20

GALACTIC DERELICT

actually go to school. But the Vis-Tex I saw in action wasn't too successful." He decided on a guess.
"Planning to test a new model here?"
"In a way--yes."
Travis had not expected a serious answer like that. And it was Ashe who had made it, plainly to the
surprise of Ross. But the possibilities opened up by that assent were startling.
Photographing the past, beginning with a few hours past, by the infra-red waves, had succeded in
experimentation as far back as twenty years previously--during the late fifties. The process had been
perfected to a point where objects would appear on films exposed a week after the disappearance of
those objects from a given point. And Travis had been pres-ent on one occasion when an experimental
Vis-Tex had been demonstrated by Dr. Morgan. But if they did have a new model which could produce
a real reach back into history--! He drew a deep breath and stared at the cave-enclosed ruins before
him. What would it mean to bring the past to visual life again! Then he grinned.
"A lot of history will have to be rewritten in a hurry if you have one that works."
"Not history as we know it." Ashe drew out cigarettes and passed them. "Son, you're a part of this now,
whether or no. We can't afford to let you go, the situation is too critical. So-- you'll be offered a chance
to enlist."
"In what?" countered Travis warily.
"In Project Folsom One." Ashe lit his cigarette. "Head-quarters checked you out all along the line. I'm
inclined to think that providence had a hand in your turning up here today. It all fits."
"Too -well?" There was a frown Line between Ross's brows.
"No," Ashe replied. "He's just what he said he is. Our man reported from the Double A and from
Morgan. He can't be a plant."


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