Sleepers Of Mars
- Автор: Уиндем Джон Паркс Лукас Бейнон Харрис
- Год: 1977
- Язык: английский
- Год: Coronet Books/Hodder & Stoughton Ltd
- ISBN: 0340173262
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Sleepers Of Mars». Краткое содержание книги:
Of course, we are now well used to the idea of Man On The Moon, we have become blasé as to the possibilities of inter-planetary travel. But imagine two expeditions to Mars, one British, the other Russian, both in the process of discovering a mechanical race, invented and produced by the Martians as they believe their specie to be dying.
The other four novellas in this collection give further evidence of John Wyndham’s genius at invention, characterisation and sense of movement.
‘One perhaps, but certainly not many,’ Vinski said. ‘The less entrances, the less loss of their precious air.’
‘I’ve got to get in somehow,’ muttered Platavinov, grimly. The other three helped for a time in the search for another entrance, but as the Sun rose higher they left him to find it for himself. Vinski was unwilling to waste his last chances of taking photographs, and Gordonov was anxious to make his last bid for understanding the machines in the workshops. It would be hard luck for Platavinov if he could not collect the specimens to take back to Earth, but it was not sense for them all to waste time on the one job.
Zhatkin, with a characteristic shrug, drifted off too. He made his way back to their living-room and settled down at the control panel of the visi-screen. He tuned it first to show the busy streets of Hanno—streets which were thronged with moving crowds, not of men, but of shining machines. Only rarely did he catch a glimpse of a helmeted human figure in its space-suit.
The machines interested him deeply. He found it easier than his companions to believe that they were sentient, and he wanted very much to know the degree of self-control to which they had attained. Still more he wanted to know how they were built. It irked him extremely that whenever he set the focus for the inside of one of the factories, the screen went blank, just as it did when he tried to look inside any of the other buildings.
The best that he could do was to adjust his viewpoint so that it was just outside the factory doors, but that was unsatisfactory, too; the view was limited, and half the time it was obliterated by machines passing in and out.
One thing his observations of Hanno had told him was that whatever the relationship between the men and the machines, the former certainly did not exercise direct control, and that if the city contained a human population of only some 3,000, as Soantin had said, the machines must outnumber them a good many to one.
When he tired of that, he tried to explore another interest. Raising his viewpoint to some thousand feet above ground level, he set out to follow the great canal which led southward from Hanno. One day he had seen something ploughing slowly through its waters. Whether it had been creature or machine he did not know, for in the effort to get a closer view he had muddled his controls and lost it altogether.
He would have liked to know for certain whether animal life on such a scale had managed to survive in the Martian waters, or if he had chanced to get a glimpse of a commercial vessel still plying between the few surviving cities. But miles of the canal moved in a broad ribbon across the screen, and left him unrewarded.
The day wore on. No one came to disturb Zhatkin as he sat flitting the visi-screen hither and thither across the half-planet which was its range. Doubtless the others had come back to the building in the course of the day to exchange their depleted oxygen packs for fully-charged ones, but they had not come upstairs. He was glad of that. He had no wish to talk to them. He was quite content to sit and, a little sadly, watch the scenes pass before him.
A sense which he did not attempt to analyse told him that he could do nothing useful. It was something of the same feeling which had come upon him when he suggested that Yauadin should be killed….
The Sun was only an hour or two off setting when a sound of feet in the passage brought him out of his contemplations. He turned to see Gordonov enter—Gordonov, and a stranger, both in space-suits. One of the engineer’s hands was firmly clamped on his companion’s arm.
‘Platavinov here?’ he asked. ‘I want to hear what this chap has to say.’
He thrust the other man into the room and, taking up a tactical position near the door, removed his helmet.
Zhatkin looked curiously at the newcomer. He was undoubtedly a Martian, and his features were set similarly to Yauadin’s. The man seated himself on the divan, with an air of great weariness, and, seeing that it was safe to do so, unfastened his helmet and dropped it to the floor. He sat for some seconds with his face in his hands. As he looked up again, his eyes met Zhatkin’s and he said something in his own language.
Zhatkin could not understand the words, but he had seen a worn out, exhausted man before. He led him over to the switchboard and pressed a lever. The Martian understood what was expected of him. He spoke a few words into the diaphragm, and a few minutes later he was making a meal with the intensity of a desperately hungry man.
‘Where did you come across him?’ Zhatkin asked Gordonov.
‘Spotted him slinking around in one of the engineering shops. Thought it was that fellow Yauadin at first, but it isn’t.’
‘So I see. But who is it?’
‘That’s what I want to know. I brought him along for Platavinov to find out. He came quietly enough. Not much strength in these chaps, anyway, by the skinny look of ’em; and this one seems pretty well all in. What I don’t understand-’
He broke off as Vinski entered hurriedly.
‘There’s something queer happening! I swear I saw a couple of men in one of the streets just now. It-Who’s that?’ he asked abruptly, as he caught sight of the stranger. ‘Where did he come from? What’s going on?’
‘I don’t think it’s too difficult to guess,’ said Zhatkin, thoughtfully.
Platavinov arrived a few minutes later in a state of great agitation.
‘He’s done it! By Lenin, you were right, Zhatkin! We should never have let him go. He’s waking them. There are lights in the hospital; people moving inside. What do you think they’ll do?’
‘Better ask this one,’ Gordonov advised, bringing forward his capture.
Platavinov, swinging round at the Martian, fired a series of rapid questions at him. The other did not answer at once. The food had done him good, giving him new strength, but it had not taken the lines from his face. He stood looking steadily into the doctor’s eyes. Then he began to speak slowly, distinctly, and with a malevolence which no one could misunderstand.
Platavinov was clearly taken aback by the venom in his voice, but in a few seconds his expression of amazement gave place to one of understanding. He interjected a swift sentence, and the Martian’s manner, too, underwent a change. Vinski and the others were obliged to wait impatiently through a considerable conversation until Platavinov turned to give them the gist of it. He looked worried as he did so.
‘He thought at first that we were Martians,’ he explained.
‘He calmed off a bit when I told him who we really are, but it seems to me as if there is going to be trouble.
‘It was Yauadin who brought this off, all right. He left here some time during the night, and went straight to the hospital. There he found the machinery for aeration and set it going. He guessed that we might follow him, and put all the entrances to the place out of action. The moment there was sufficient pressure of air, he set about opening the containers and bringing his friends back to life.
‘As soon as the first had recovered enough, they joined in and helped him. They’ve been at it fourteen hours now, and there are hundreds of them out already. They’ve been able to bring them round quicker than I could; all the necessary stuff is to hand in the hospital. They’re still at it now, as hard as they can go! ’
‘What are they going to do?’ Vinski asked.
‘First, they are going to put this city in full working order again; this chap and some others have been looking round with an eye to getting things going. Then they’re going all out to revenge themselves on the existing cities. They mean to wipe out any Martians who still exist.
‘You heard that fellow’s tone when he thought we were Martians. That’s how they feel about them. It’s going to be no halfhearted business once they get going ! ’