"E. E. Doc Smith - Subspace 2 - Subspace Encounter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith E. E. Doc)

And many un'stats, the ablest physically and mentally or both, won citizenship and
numbers and status in many and various ways. Rodnar's great grandfather, for instance,
had been born an un'stat. Having inherited psionic genes from both parents, however, he
became an outstandingly successful bladesman and advanced himself and his line
accordingly.

Perhaps it should be mentioned, though it hardly seems necessary-through the millennia
the Justiciate had outlawed all languages except the dominant one, that of Slaar; so a
universal language was spoken on all the one hundred eightythree planets; with one
notable exception, proud, recalcitrant Garsh.

A few days after winning the championship of Meetyl, Rodnar-now of Status Thirty-Six
and with his left arm in a sling-took an aircab to the edifice housing the outer offices of
His Magnificence the Supreme Grand Justice. Armed this time with a letter of
introduction to the First Secretary herself, he was ushered immediately into that Able's
inner private office.

Her Ability First Secretary Daughtelna Starrlah of Slaar, Status Eleven point One Nine
Zero, was a tall, brown-eyed, breasty, muscular-swimmer type-young woman; with mus-
cles and other attributes startlingly on display through a tightly stretched jersey made of
white nylon gauze. She wore the dangling, sparkling ear-pendants that were the mode of
the moment; her shining, jet-black hair was piled high in what would be the mode of week
after next. She was made up to the eyeballs.

She was sitting in a posture chair at an oversized desk littered with correspondence
baskets, folders of all colors, business- and star-charts, handbooks, technical journals,
tapes, and viewers. In her left hand she held a green folder with Rodnar's name printed
on it in black. As Rodnar entered the room she stared at him intently; she fairly riveted
his eyes with hers with a look as old as woman and man.

While the usherette was showing Rodnar where he was to sit, the FirSec half-rose
behind her desk and half-extended an exquisitely-worked crystal flask. "A whiff?" she
asked, but went on without a pause, "But I don't suppose you inhale, though, at that,"
and she withdrew the flask and sat down again.

"No, thanks, Your Ability, I'm in training; but please go ahead.тАЭ

"Uh-uh; I don't really like the stuff my inhaling is strictly social.тАЭ

The office-girl having left the room and closed the door behind her, the FirSec flipped the

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switch that turned on the red "IN CONFERENCE" sign across the outer side of that door.
She then said "No calls" to her squawk-box and flipped its power-switch to "OFF";
continuing the while to look at him with an intensity and a purpose that surprised him to
the core.

It was not that a woman was taking the initiative-in their culture, that was the woman's
inalienable right and her exclusive privilege-it was that this particular woman would deign