"Sheri S. Tepper - The Companions" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tepper Sherri)

"Here," said Drom, pointing. "Earther ships, old ones, up on the nearest plateau."

The other man, Bar Lukha, rose and stumbled across the room and back, pausing briefly
to look over Drom's shoulder. "Dunno. Haven't seen it. Sage must've entered it. There,
let's see, what's today? Hmm. Looks like fourteen, fifteen days ago."

"They found ships! And nobody mentioned it!"

"As you said, old ones," said the other, dismissively. "Mossed all over. Nobody in
them."

"They're Hargess ships!"

"Really? Hmmm. I suppose the Hargess Hessings might want to know about it."

"You suppose so, do you? Of course they'll want to know about it. Even families with
enough money to send off whole fleets of ships on damned fool errands are interested in
what happens to them!"

"Ah." Bar Lukha shook his head as he passed his dreaming gaze across his fellow as
though scanning shadows. "They've written them off, long since. They've been lost up on
that escarpment too long to be of concern. It's no wonder nobody saw them until
recently. You really want to open things up..."

Drom cursed, quietly, thoughtfully. Though the persons who had traveled in those ships
or had owned those ships, or their heirs, might have a reasonable claim to the planet
itself, the process of exploration and categorization, inconclusive though it was, had
advanced so far that no one would welcome a suggestion to start over. Such a
suggestion would infuriate the Derac. And others.
He had no intention of suggesting it. He would simply forward the report. Let the
higher-ups suggest whatever they wanted to. His soul told him this world should be left
to the creatures who occupied it, but he could find no hard evidence of intelligent life.
He had only one concrete fact to use as a bar against this planet being opened up,
visited, utilized, colonized, destroyed, but he did not wish to mention that one thing.

Still, despite all the earlier protestations of patience, Exploration and Survey Corps was
growing itchy. Taking time was one thing, they said. Taking forever was another. ESC
didn't get paid until something definitive happened. Several days ago Earth Enterprises
had demanded a report, a preliminary judgment, a few words to indicate what was
going on. Either that, or they'd pull their people out, contract or no contract.

This directive in hand, Drom had gone to his mirror to consult with himself, there being
no one else of appropriate status left to consult. His consciousness hovered between two
sets of identically accusatory eyes, himself glaring at himself reflected; himself, head of
station; accountable to no one but himself; knowing himself to have willingly
succumbed to the delirium of Moss, to have repeatedly indulged himself and, yes,
others, in behavior that PPI HQ would consider ... no! That he himself considered
improper.

The only remedy for this infraction was to stay out of the forest, to confine himself to