"Reed, Robert - TreasureBuried" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reed Robert)

"I know you're not."

Mekal seemed oblivious to them, his brow furrowed, eyes tracking after the
arcing ball.

Wallace had an idea, an inspiration. "How about if I explain genetics? I'll tell
you how I think about them."

Cindy smiled while looking straight ahead. "Okay. Do."

"Think of DNA as another way of talking. That's all. Chromosomes and the rest of
it are just machines that record the words in the DNA. Genes are a set of
instructions meant for the future. They tall new generations how to build
proteins, metabolize, then reproduce when it's their turn. The actual parts are
simple. What's complicated is that there are so many parts, you see? I don't
understand more than a fraction of the whole setup, and it's my job. Which is
why I feel pretty humble most of the time."

"Do you?" she asked.

"Oh, sure." He paused, deciding what to say next. Then he heard his voice coming
out of him, seemingly of its own volition. "Think of your genes this way. Your
parents and grandparents and all the way back . . . all those people are talking
to you, millions of biochemical voices working together, and the words are
wrapped up in machinery more complicated and much, much more reliable than any
machine people have ever built."

"That's something to think about," she said.

Mekal stretched out his sore leg, saying nothing.

"We're full of stuff, and a lot of it isn't even used anymore. For me it's like
hunting for treasures, doing what I do." Then he decided to forget caution,
pressing ahead. "I just had a weird thought. This is the same subject, just a
different way of looking at it. Suppose someday we go to another star and find
life on a planet. It's more primitive than Earth, but maybe someday it'll get to
building campfires and condos. Who knows? So anyway, we decide to leave a
message for the future. We can carve stone, I suppose, but what if the stone
weathers away? We can put a message on the planer's moon, but no place is really
safe. I mean, what we want is to be able to tuck our message where nothing can
destroy it. We make a simple code, but where can it go? Where would a code be
repaired and replicated without our having to worry --"

"In the genes? The alien ones?" Cindy seemed genuinely excited, asking him, "Am
I right? That's what you're saying, isn't it?"

"I suppose so." It was the logic that Wallace had employed several weeks ago.
"If I ever find myself in a starship, it's something I'd consider."