X


[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

The Captain turned to stare. �What about them? What's wrong?�
Mark looked at the Captain's wide back and his overdeveloped posterior. He looked at the
gray stubble that covered the Captain's head, at the two large hands with thick fingers that
clasped one another in the small of the Captain's back and flapped rhythmically against the
shiny plastex of his jacket.
Mark thought, What does he care about the stars? Does he care about their size and
brightness and spectral Classes?
His lower lip trembled. The Captain was just one of the non-compos. Everyone on ship was
a noncompos. That's what they called them back in the Service. Noncompos. All of them.
Couldn't cube fifteen without a computer.
Mark felt very lonely.
He let it go (no use trying to explain) and said, �The stars get so thick here. Like pea
soup.�
�All appearance, Mr. Annuncio.� (The Captain pronounced the c in Mark's name like an s
rather than a ch and the sound grated on Mark�s ear.) �Average distance between stars in
the thickest duster is over a light-year. Plenty of room, eh? Looks thick, though. Grant you
that. If the lights were out, they'd shine like a trillion Chisholm paints in an oscillating force
field.�
But he didn't offer to put the lights out and Mark wasn't going to ask him to.
The Captain said �Sit down, Mr. Annuncio. No use standing, eh? You smoke? Mind if I do?
Sorry you couldn't be here this morning. Had an excellent view of Lagrange I and II at six
space-hours. Red and green. Like traffic lights, eh? Missed you all trip. Space legs need
strengthening, eh?�
He barked out his �eh�s� in a high-pitched voice that Mark found devilishly irritating.
Mark said in a low voice, �I'm all right now.� The Captain seemed to find that
unsatisfactory. He puffed at his cigar and stared down at Mark with eyebrows hunched down
over his eyes. He said slowly, �Glad to see you now, anyway. Get acquainted a little. Shake
hands. The Triple G.'s been on a good many government-chartered cruises. No trouble.
Never had trouble. Wouldn't want trouble. You understand.�
Mark didn't. He was tired of trying to. His eyes drifted back hungrily to the stars. The pattern
had changed a little.
The Captain caught his eyes for a moment. He was frowning and his shoulders seemed to
tremble at the edge of a shrug. He walked to the control panel, and like a gigantic eyelid,
metal slithered across the studded observation port.
Mark jumped up in a fury, shrieking, �What's the idea? I'm counting them, you fool.�
�Counting�� The Captain flushed, but maintained a quality of politeness in his voice. He
said, �Sorry! Little matter of business we must discuss.�
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
He stressed the word �business� lightly.
Mark knew what he meant. �There's nothing to discuss. I want to see the ship's log. I called
you hours ago to tell you that. You're delaying me.�
The Captain said, �Suppose you tell me why you want to see it, eh? Never been asked
before. Where's your authority?� Mark felt astonished. �I can look at anything I want to. I'm
in Mnemonic Service.�
The Captain puffed strongly at Ms cigar. (It was a special grade manufactured for use in
space and on enclosed space objects. It had an oxidant included so that atmospheric
oxygen was not consumed.)
He said cautiously, �That so? Never heard of it. What is it?� Mark said indignantly, �It's
the Mnemonic Service, that's all!. It's my job to look at anything I want to and to ask anything I
want to. And I've got a right to do it.�
�Can't look at the log if I don't want you to.�
�You've got no say in it, you-you nomcompos.�
The Captain's coolness evaporated. He threw his cigar down violently and stamped at it,
then picked it up and poked it carefully into the ash vent.
�What the Galactic drift is this?� he demanded. �Who are you, anyway? Security agent?
What's up? Let's have it straight. Right now.�
�I've told you all I have to.�
�Nothing to hide,� said the Captain, �but I've got rights.�
�Nothing to hide?� squeaked Mark. �Then why is this ship called the Triple G?�
�That's its name.�
�Go on. No such ship with an Earth registry. I knew that before I got on. I've been waiting to
ask you.� [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

  • zanotowane.pl
  • doc.pisz.pl
  • pdf.pisz.pl
  • sp28dg.keep.pl


  • Drogi uĂ„Ä…Ă„Ëťytkowniku!

    W trosce o komfort korzystania z naszego serwisu chcemy dostarczać Ci coraz lepsze usługi. By móc to robić prosimy, abyś wyraził zgodę na dopasowanie treści marketingowych do Twoich zachowań w serwisie. Zgoda ta pozwoli nam częściowo finansować rozwój świadczonych usług.

    Pamiętaj, że dbamy o Twoją prywatność. Nie zwiększamy zakresu naszych uprawnień bez Twojej zgody. Zadbamy również o bezpieczeństwo Twoich danych. Wyrażoną zgodę możesz cofnąć w każdej chwili.

     Tak, zgadzam siÄ™ na nadanie mi "cookie" i korzystanie z danych przez Administratora Serwisu i jego partnerÄ‚Ĺ‚w w celu dopasowania treĹ›ci do moich potrzeb. PrzeczytaĹ‚em(am) PolitykÄ™ prywatnoĹ›ci. Rozumiem jÄ… i akceptujÄ™.

     Tak, zgadzam siÄ™ na przetwarzanie moich danych osobowych przez Administratora Serwisu i jego partnerÄ‚Ĺ‚w w celu personalizowania wyĹ›wietlanych mi reklam i dostosowania do mnie prezentowanych treĹ›ci marketingowych. PrzeczytaĹ‚em(am) PolitykÄ™ prywatnoĹ›ci. Rozumiem jÄ… i akceptujÄ™.

    Wyrażenie powyższych zgód jest dobrowolne i możesz je w dowolnym momencie wycofać poprzez opcję: "Twoje zgody", dostępnej w prawym, dolnym rogu strony lub poprzez usunięcie "cookies" w swojej przeglądarce dla powyżej strony, z tym, że wycofanie zgody nie będzie miało wpływu na zgodność z prawem przetwarzania na podstawie zgody, przed jej wycofaniem.