"Emil Petaja - Tramontane" - читать интересную книгу автора (Petaja Emil)

prospective colony which their probings recommended as suitable. These
manships arbitrarily destroyed all intelligent and quasi-intelligent life on
this planet. All. Before they knew what that life was all about. Before they
could be irritated by a preliminary war of conquest, or whatever glib
phrase their propaganda chose to call it. Before compassion set in. That
was the most important thing of all. The machines of the Ussi had taught
their creators the creed of justification-by-computer-decision and from
then on they permitted themselves no scruples. The machines said this
must be done! Do it! Kill them all! Breed and kill!тАЭ

тАЬThey are terrible, terrible people,тАЭ Kullervo surprised himself by
saying.

тАЬNot at all,тАЭ the starwitch cackled. тАЬI admire them. They bore me
because they canтАЩt see the real truths behind their ancient legends even
when the truthтАФand the incredible Power that goes with itтАФexists right
under their mechanical noses! The Vanhat existed among them, before
Underearth, for millennia and they kept their one-track minds occupied
with machines. Machines! When they might have done much more than
they have done, and a good deal faster, by the use of cosmic
power-rhythms within their own minds. Do I need machines? Perkele! I
do what I do straight from here!тАЭ Louhi poked a finger like a black talon at
her forehead. тАЬI rove where and when I please. I seek out others like myself
who use evil for their toy, demons from the Black Nebula and elsewhere. I
happen to be a member of their sorcerous cult in very good standing, I am
proud to say. I evade Time and life forever. I have my slaves to amuse me
during the dull intervals. And now I have you!тАЭ

тАЬAye, Mistress. But what for?тАЭ

тАЬWhat for? I have important work for you! Now, disgusting as I find it
to speak of themтАФI must dwell further on my ancient enemies, the
Vanhat. I wonтАЩt bother you with my reasons for hating them so much.
These things will come to you as I stir my spoon into that vacuum you call
a mind. The memories are all there, deep in your cells. My prodding will
call them up when they are needed. Enough to say that I still hate them
and that somehow or other their residue has escaped my wrath. Terra
itself is a blighted forsaken world, drained of all use, but somewhereтАж
somehowтАжтАЭ Her gimlet eyes leaped with hellтАЩs own fire.

тАЬI remember something now,тАЭ Kullervo stated ingenuously. тАЬOn the
Mothership once I heard somebody mention Terra. One of the officers
heard it, too. He told the old man never to say the name again. Why?тАЭ

тАЬBecause the mere sound of it reminds the Ussi that they were not
always star-creatures. Their roots were in the Terran slimes. They think
they have outgrown the small dot that first brought them life, as a child
outgrows his sandbox. They prefer to forget the sardine-can of a world of
hundreds of Levels, into the ground and above it. Some of their scientists
advised caution in the spacial outfling; the young hotheads didnтАЩt want