"Jack Vance - Sail 25" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vance Jack)

For two hours the cadets drifted through space, propelled by tanks of gas and thrust tubes. All enjoyed the
experience except Sutton, who found himself appalled by the immen-sity of his emotions. Probably least affected was
the prac-tical Verona, who inspected the sail with a care exacting enough to satisfy even Henry Belt.
The next day the computer went wrong. Ostrander was in charge of the watch and knocked on Henry Belt's door to
make the report.
Henry Belt appeared in the doorway. He apparently had been asleep. "What is the difficulty, Mr. Ostrander?"
"We're in trouble, sir. The computer has gone out."
Henry Belt rubbed his grizzled pate. "This is not an un-usual circumstance. We prepare for this contingency by
schooling all cadets thoroughly in computer design and re-pair. Have you identified the difficulty?"
"The bearings which suspend the data-separation disks have broken. The shaft has several millimeters play and as
a result there is total confusion in the data presented to the analyzer."
"An interesting problem. Why do you present it to me?"
"I thought you should be notified, sir. I don't believe we carry spares for this particular bearing."
Henry Belt shook his head sadly. "Mr. Ostrander, do you recall my statement at the beginning of this voyage, that
you six gentlemen are totally responsible for the navigation of the ship?"
"Yes, sir. ButтАФ"
"This is an applicable situation. You must either repair the computer, or perform the calculations yourself."
"Very well, sir. I will do my best."




5
Lynch, Verona, Ostrander and Sutton disassembled the mechanism, removed the worn bearing. "Confounded
an-tique!" said Lynch. "Why can't they give us decent equip-ment? Or if they want to kill us, why not shoot us and
save us all trouble."
"We're not dead yet," said Verona. "You've looked for a spare?"
"Naturally. There's nothing remotely like this."
Verona looked at the bearing dubiously. "I suppose we could cast a babbitt sleeve and machine it to fit. That's
what we'll have to doтАФunless you fellows are awfully fast with your math."
Sutton glanced out the port, quickly turned his eyes away. "I wonder if we should cut sail."
"Why?" asked Ostrander.
"We don't want to build up too much velocity. We're al-ready going thirty miles a second."
"Mars is a long way off."
"And if we miss; we go shooting past. Then where are we?"
"Sutton, you're a pessimist. A shame to find morbid ten-dencies in one so young." This from von Gluck.
 "I'd rather be a live pessimist than a dead comedian."
The new sleeve was duly cast, machined and fitted. Anxiously the alignment of the data disks was checked.
"Well," said Verona doubtfully, "there's wobble. How much that affects the functioning remains to be seen. We can
take some of it out by shimming the mount. . . ."
Chims of tissue paper were inserted and the wobble seemed to be reduced. "NowтАФfeed in the data," said Sutton.
"Let's see how we stand."
Coordinates were fed into the system; the indicator swung. "Enlarge sail cant four degrees," said von Gluck; "we're
making too much left concentric. Projected course. . . ." He tapped buttons, watched the bright line extend across the
screen, swing around a dot representing the center of gravity of Mars. "I make it an elliptical pass, about twenty
thousand miles out. That's at present acceleration, and it should toss us right back at Earth."
"Great. Simply great. Let's go, Twenty-Five!" This was Lynch. "I've heard of guys dropping flat on their faces and
kissing Earth when they put down. Me, I'm going to live in a cave the rest of my life."
Sutton went to look at the data disks. The wobble was slight but perceptible. "Good Lord," he said huskily. "The
other end of the shaft is loose too."