"Smith, E E 'Doc' - SubSpace Vol 2 - Subspace Encounter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith E. E. Doc)

size and of more magnificent scope. The entire back wall was an ages-old masterpiece
of mosaic, of overpowering force and poignancy and beauty, portraying a frightful storm
at sea. A great sailing vessel, heeled over until her lee rail was awash, tearing through
the water with only tattered rags of canvas on her almost-bare poles and spars but with
a tremendous bone in her teeth, was making what was very evidently a climactic
last-ditch effort to survive-and it was just as evident that her fate hung dreadfully in the
balance. To look at that masterpiece, especially for the first time, was a shattering
experience; and all the other art in the room-on floor and ceiling and both sidewalk-led
the eye inescapably toward it.

When Starrlah had first taken Rodnar to look at that office, both had stood entranced for
minutes, studying that mosaic and appreciating it and feeling its impact in the very
marrow of their bones. The girl had finally said, with her eyes showing a trace of unshed
tears, "Rod, that is the most utterly marvelous thing I have ever seen in my life. It simply
tears at me; it's one of the very, few things I've ever seen that makes me go all weepy
inside."

Rodnar, staring in fascination, had nodded and had said, "It's got a terrific wallop, no
question. . . . If I can have this office, Starr, I certainly don't want to look at any more or
have one built. I'd never forgive myself if I let this go."

He had worked in that office for some three weeks now; had become accustomed
enough to it so that he could work in it. Marrjyl, however, who was now approaching at
high speed through the air, had been in the new headquarters only a couple of times.
Also, since she was just in from Orm, she had never previously seen even a copy of the
younger Naizlon's immortal Ship in Distress. She locked in, shed and stowed; and then,
after flashing a thought of greeting at Rodnar and Knuaire, she put both hands on her
hips and stared at the mosaic in frowning concentration.

Rodnar grinned at her. "I know," he directed a thought. "It's got the wallop of a battering
ram. But why all the scowls? Every time you come in here you scowl at it."

"Was I scowling? I didn't realize that I was . . . not that I'm at all surprised. Wallop?
Huh!" She emitted a more or less ladylike snort. "It leaves me as cold as a basket of
fish. I know that nobody now alive has ever sailed a vessel of that type or tonnage and
I've never read up on the theory, but that thing sets my teeth on edge something fierce. It
doesn't make sense in any partic."

"Huh?" Rodnar demanded. "Why, that's the greatest." "I don't care how great it is!" she
broke in in turn. "You simply can't assume that the captain of a sea-going vessel that big
would be or could be an utter nitwit. That's ridiculous. And if he wasn't-if he had a living
lick of brains-he'd've had his tail section there"-she pointed, then swung the finger in a
quarter-circle clockwise." pointing straight back into the wind, so it couldn't possibly blow
him over. And I'll bet you seven junex to two that if you put appropriate data into a
computer you'll find that those waves are all askew too. Absolutely wrong in size, shape,
aspect, and deployment for the evident direction and apparent velocity of the wind."

Rodnar was shocked. "But Marr!" he protested. "That's art! You feel it-way down deep
in your guts and with everything you've got you don't run it through a computer or analyze
its components for stresses and strains."