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

a by-product of the normal activities of this postulated race."

"It is my considered opinion that X-storms are both deliberate and inimical. That there is
such a race; a race that is studying us and harassing us. That, whenever they are ready
to act, our communications will be blanketed continuously and they will attack us."

"Nonsense!" snapped a big, massive, almost-black woman, Daughtlanarr Monarr of
Tsalk. "I believe firmly that X-storms are purely natural phenomena; just as natural as
magnetic storms but we don't know yet what causes them. Your inference, Rodnar; is
based largely upon the fact that such storms are increasing in number. You are ignoring
the overriding fact that all nature waxes and wanes, in one way or another. And Wayrec,
your thinking is altogether too deeply colored by your heredity and environment of
ceaseless warfare. You are extrapolating from an indefensible assumption to utterly
indefensible conclusions. Knuaire, what is your."
"Hold up!" the Garshan snapped, his dark, proud face hard set. "As a mysto-pacifist,
Monarr, who does not wear a knife, you should not insult a whole man. An apology is in
order."

"You hold up, Wayrec," Rodnar said crisply, before the black woman could say a word.
"I asked for full and frank opinions. Censored, pussy-footing opinions are valueless.
Therefore, the insult, if any, was mine. I wear a knife and I am at your service. . . .

"Hold up, both of you!" Knuaire drove the thought. "Rod, are you conducting a forum or a
games? Wayrec, did you come here to learn something or to pick a fight."

"You've got a point there, Knu, at that." Rodnar grinned sheepishly at the Spathian; then
went on, "I apologize, Wayrec, especially since I'm a semipro bladesman; and I
apologize to all of you for conduct unbecoming a presiding officer. Wayrec, you still have
the floor."

"The error was mine," the Garshan admitted stiffly, carefully concealing the fury that
raged within. "I gave my opinion. I will add only that my mind is open to facts and to
sound reasonings, but not to sentimental vaporings and mystic denials of reality. Over to
you, Theoretician First Songladen Knuaire of Spath."

"While I am not convinced that such a race does in fact exist," Knuaire said, "I am willing
to postulate, as a firstapproximation working hypothesis, that it does. We have explored
only a minute fraction of one galaxy, and it is probable that all the planets of all the
galaxies are mutually accessible through the fourth dimension. Thus, without introducing
any additional unknowns, almost anything is possible; but idle speculation is not
productive. We should, I think, concentrate on X-storms and how to abate them-'how' is
much more important at the moment than 'who."'
"Check," Marrjyl agreed, "if we want to keep on living." The meeting settled down to solid
study.

They had built twelve counter-generators. They were kept out in subspace, powered and
ready, but the few successes that had been achieved in aborting X-storms had been due
largely to luck. The trouble was that the storms moved altogether too fast; they did their
damage and disappeared before the defending installations could get within range.