Страница 65 из 72
So for the first-and last-time the Kohinoor-mind began to work at its full capacity, throwing the combined power of two hundred million people into this final project. The results were staggering-a true echo, Pahli thought wistfully, of the efficiency and cooperation he'd once hoped to give his world. For such power to be used to complete the mind's own destruction was just one last irony.
They began to build starships. Hundreds a week at first, but within six months over a hundred thousand a day. Small and cramped, they were little more than shuttles with sleeper and recycling facilities, Burke stardrives, and planet-sca
It took over two years to build ships enough for everyone, and the project left Kohinoor gutted of metals and other materials. In a way, it was fortunate that many of the weaker people were unable to stand the long wait and chose instead the easier escape. For them, of course, no starships were needed....
For Pahli, it ended as it had begun, in the eternal darkness of space. Through his tiny viewport he watched as Kohinoor fell behind his ship. He was one of the last to leave-his sense of honor had demanded that-and within a day or two Kohinoor would be deserted.
Pahli, can you still hear me? the last remnant of the hive mind touched his. He didn't answer, but it knew he heard. We don't blame you for what happened, Pahli. Please don't blame yourself.
How can I not? I failed my world, and good motives are no excuse for the destruction I brought upon us.
I've already accepted your forgiveness; allow me the privilege of withholding my own.
The mind seemed to sigh. Very well, if that's truly your wish. But note that your self-imposed martyrdom is not without its irony. Indeed, you did not fail at the task you set for yourself.
Through the growing silence he heard the faint answer: You found a final solution to war.
The contact broke, and for the first time in three years Pahli was truly alone. Taking a deep, clean breath, he shifted his gaze from Kohinoor's disk and sca
It takes at least two people to have a war.
Behind him the sleeper tank chimed its readiness. With one last look at Kohinoor, Pahli went to strap in.
He'd be entering hyperspace soon.
PAWN'S GAMBIT
To: Office of Director Rodau 248700, Alien Research Bureau, Clars From: Office of Director Eftis 379214, Games Studies, Var-4
Subject: 30th a
Date: 4 Mras 3829
Dear Rodau, I know how you hate getting addenda after a report has been processed, but I hope you will make an exception in this case. Our most recently discovered race-the Humans-was mentioned only briefly in our last a
The complete results are given in the enclosed film, but the crux of the problem is a disturbing lack of consistency with standard patterns. In many ways they are unsophisticated, even primitive; most of the subjects reacted with terror and even hysteria when first brought here via Transphere. And yet, unlike most primitives, there is a mental and emotional resilience to the species which frankly surprises me.
Nearly all of them recovered from their fear and went on to play the Stage-I game against their fellows.
And the imagination, skill, and sheer aggressiveness used in the playing have been inordinately high for such a young species, prompting more than one off-the-record comparison between Humans and the Chanis. I suppose it's that, more than anything else, that made me unwilling to let this data ride until our next report. Confined as they are to their home planet, the Humans are certainly no threat now; but if they prove to be even a twelfth as dangerous as the Chanis they will need to be dealt with swiftly.
Accordingly, I am asking permission to take the extraordinary step of moving immediately to Phase III
(the complete proposal is attached to my report). I know this is generally forbidden with non-spacing races, but I feel it is vital that we test Humans against races of established ability. Please give me a decision on this as soon as possible.
races, but I feel it is vital that we test Humans against races of established ability. Please give me a decision on this as soon as possible.
Eftis To: Office of Director Eftis 379214, Game Studies, Var-4
From: Office of Director Rodau 248700, A.R.B., Clars Subject: Addendum to 30th a
Dear Eftis, Thank you for your recent addenda. You were quite right to bring these Humans to our attention; that is, after all, what you're out there for. I find myself, as do you, both interested and alarmed by this race, and I agree totally with your proposal to initiate Phase III. As usual, the authorization tapes will be a few more weeks in coming, but-unofficially-I'm giving you the go-ahead to start your preparations. I also agree with your suggestion that a star-going race be pitted against your Human: an Olyt or Fiwalic, perhaps. I see by your reports that the Olyts are begi
Do keep us informed, especially if you uncover more evidence of Chanilike qualities in these aliens.
Sincerely, Rodau The glowing, impenetrable sphere of white mist that had surrounded him for the last five minutes dissolved as suddenly as it had formed, and Kelly McClain found himself in a room he had never seen in his life.
Slowly, carefully, he looked around him, heart pounding painfully in his ears. He'd screamed most of the panic out of his system within the first three minutes of his imprisonment, but he could feel the terror welling up into his throat again. He forced it down as best he could. He was clearly no longer in his office at the university's reactor lab, but losing his head wasn't going to get him back again.
He was sitting in a semicircular alcove facing into a small room, his chair and about three-quarters of his desk having made the trip with him. The room's walls, ceiling, and floor were made of a bronze-colored metal and were devoid of any ornamentation. At the right and left ends of the room he could see panels that looked like sliding doors.
There didn't seem to be a lot to be gained by sitting quietly and hoping everything out there would go away. His legs felt like they might be ready to hold him up again, so he stood up and squeezed his way through the six-inch gap between his desk and the alcove wall. The desk, he noted, had been sheared smoothly, presumably by the white mist or something in it. He went first to the panel in the right-hand wall; but if it was, in fact, a door, he could find no way to open it. The left-hand panel yielded identical results. "Hello?" he called tentatively into the air around him. "Can anyone hear me?"
The flat voice came back at him so suddenly it made him jump. "Good day to you, Human," it said.
"Welcome to the Stryfkar Game Studies Center on Var-4. I trust you suffered no ill effects from your journey?"