"A. E. Van Vogt - Concealment (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Van Vogt A E)
By A E van Vogt
The Earth ship came so swiftly around the planetless Gisser sun that the alarm system in the meteorite weather station had no time to react. The great machine was already visible when Watcher grew aware of it.
Alarms must have blared in the ship, too, for it slowed noticeably and, still braking, disappeared. Now it was coming back, creeping along, obviously trying to locate the small object that had affected its energy screens.
It loomed vast in the glare of the distant yellow-white sun, bigger even at this distance than anything ever seen by the Fifty Suns, a very hell ship out of remote space, a monster from a semi-mythical world, instantly recognizable from the descriptions in the history books as a battleship of Imperial Earth. Dire had been the warnings in the histories of what would happen someday-and here it was.
He knew his duty. There was a warning, the age-long dreaded warning, to send to the Fifty Suns by the non-directional sub-space radio; and he had to make sure nothing telltale remained of the station.
There was no fire. As the overloaded atomic engines dissolved, the massive building that had been a weather sub-station simply fell into its component elements.
Watcher made no attempt to escape. His brain, with its knowledge, must not be tapped. He felt a brief, blinding spasm of pain as the energy tore him to atoms.
She didn't bother to accompany the expedition that landed on the meteorite. But she watched with intent eyes through the astroplate.
From the very first moment that the spy rays had shown a human figure in a weather station-a weather station out here- she had known the surpassing importance of the discovery. Her mind leaped instantly to the several possibilities.
Weather stations meant interstellar travel. Human beings meant Earth origin. She visualized how it could have happened:
an expedition long ago; it must have been long ago because now they had interstellar travel, and that meant large populations on many planets.
His majesty, she thought, would be pleased.
So was she. In a burst of generosity, she called the energy room.
'Your prompt action, Captain Clone,' she said warmly, 'in inclosing the entire meteorite in a sphere of protective energy is commendable, and wili be rewarded.'
The man whose image showed on the astroplate, bowed. iThank you, noble lady.' He added: 'I think we saved the electronic and atomic components of the entire station. Unfortunately, because of the interference of the atomic energy of the station itself, I understand the photographic department was not so successful in obtaining clear prints.'
The woman smiled grimly, said: 'The man will be sufficient, and that is a matrix for which we need no prints.'
She broke the connection, still smiling, and returned her gaze to the scene on the meteorite. As she watched the energy and matter absorbers in their glowing gluttony, she thought:
There had been several storms on the map in that weather station. She'd seen them in the spy ray; and one of the storms had been very large. Her great ship couldn't dare to go fast while the location of that storm was in doubt.
Rather a handsome young man he had seemed in the flashing glimpse she had had in the spy ray, strong-willed, brave. Should be interesting in an uncivilized sort of fashion.
She saw that the men were leaving the meteorite. Decisively, she clicked off the intership communicator, made an adjustment
and stepped through a transmitter into the receiving room half a mile distant.
The officer in charge came over and saluted. He was frowning:
'I have just received the prints from the photographic department. The blur of energy haze over the map is particularly distressing. I would say that we should first attempt to reconstibite the building and its contents, leaving the man to the last.'
He seemed to sense her disapproval, Went on quickly:
'After all, he comes under the common human matrix. His reconstruction, while basically somewhat more difficult, falls into the same category as your stepping through the transmitter in the main bridge and coming to this room. In both cases there is dissolution of elements-which must be brought back into the original solution.'
The woman said: 'But why leave him to the last?'
'There are technical reasons having to do with the greater complexity of inanimate objects. Organized matter, as you know, is little more than a hydro-carbon compound, easily conjured.'
'Very well.' She wasn't as sure as he that a man and his brain, with the knowledge that had made the map, was less important than the map itself. But if both could be had- She nodded with decision. 'Proceed.'
She watched the building take shape inside the large receiver. It slid out finally on wings of antigravity, and was deposited in the center of the enormous metal floor.
The technician came down from his control chamber shaking his head. He led her and the half dozen others who had arrived, through the rebuilt weather station, pointing out the defects.
'Only twenty-seven sun points showing on the map,' he said. 'That is ridiculously low, even assuming that these people are organized for only a small area of space. And, besides, notice how many storms are shown, some considerably beyond the area of the reconstituted suns and-'
He stopped, his gaze fixed on the shadowy floor behind a machine twenty feet away.
The woman's eyes followed his. A man lay there, his body twisting.
'I thought,' she said frowning, 'the man was to be left to the last.'
The scientist was apologetic: 'My assistant must have misunderstood. They-'
The woman cut him off: 'Never mind. Have him sent at once to Psychology House, and tell Lieutenant Neslor I shall be there shortly.'
'At once, noble lady.'
Wait! Cive my compliments to the senior meteorologist and ask him to come down here, examine this map, and advise me of his findings.'
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