"Alastair Reynolds - Minla's Flowers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Alastair)

Merlin neededтАФmetals and organic compounds, principally, as well as water that
could be used to replenish TyrantтАЩs hydrogen-fusion tanksтАФthat Merlin was able to
make considerable progress just by pointing and miming. He kept talking all the
while, even in Main, and did all that he could to encourage the locals to talk back in
their own tongue. Even when he was inside the compound, Tyrant was observing
every exchange, thanks to the microscopic surveillance devices Merlin carried on his
person. Through this process, the ship was constantly testing and rejecting language
models, employing its knowledge of both the general principles of human grammar
and its compendious database of ancient languages recorded by the Cohort, many
of which were antecedents of Main itself. Lecythus might have been isolated for tens
of thousands of years, but languages older than that had been cracked by brute
computation, and Merlin had no doubt that Tyrant would get there in the end,
provided he gave it enough material to work with.

It was still not clear whether the locals regarded him as their prisoner, or
honored guest. HeтАЩd made no attempt to leave, and theyтАЩd made no effort to prevent
him returning to his ship when it was time to collect the vials of an-tibiotic. Perhaps
they had guessed that it would be futile to stop him, given the likely capabilities of
his technology. Or perhaps they had guessedтАФcor-rectly, as it happenedтАФthat
Tyrant would be going nowhere until it was repaired and fueled. In any event they
seemed less awed by his arrival than intrigued, shrewdly aware of what he could do
for them.

Merlin liked Malkoha, even though he knew almost nothing about the man.
Clearly he was a figure of high seniority within this particular organi-zation, be it
military or political, but he was also a man brave enough to fly a hazardous mission
to ferry medicines through the sky, in a time of war. And his daughter loved him,
which had to count for something. Merlin now knew that Malkoha was her тАЬspelterтАЭ
or father, although he did indeed look old enough to have been spaced from her by a
further generation.

Almost everything that Merlin did learn, in those early days, was due to Minla
rather than the adults. The adults seemed willing to at least attempt to answer his
queries, when they could understand what he was getting at. But their chalkboard
explanations usually left Merlin none the wiser. They could show him maps and
printed historical and technical treatises, but none of these shed any light on the
worldтАЩs many mysteries. Cracking text would take Tyrant even longer than cracking
spoken language.

Minla, though, had picture books. MalkohaтАЩs daughter had taken an obvi-ous
liking to Merlin, even though she shared nothing in common. Merlin gave her a new
flower each time he saw her, freshly spun from some exotic species in the biolibrary.
Merlin made a point of never giving her flowers from a particular world twice, even
when she wanted more of the same. He also made a point of always telling her
something of the place from where the flowers had come, regardless of her lack of
understanding. It seemed to be enough for her to hear the cadences of a story, even
if it was in an alien language.

There was not much color in MinlaтАЩs world, so MerlinтАЩs gifts must have had a
luminous appeal to them. Once a day, for a few minutes, they were allowed to meet