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about the Hertzsprung-Russell diagram, or red giants and blue dwarfs or neutron stars, or black holes. The professor was a fat old grabber from some jerkwater college near Smolensk, but through the dirty jokes there was poetry and beauty in what he talked about. He dwelt on the old stars that gave birth to us, spitting silicates and magnesium carbonate into space to form planets, hydrocarbons to form ourselves. He talked about the neutron stars that bent the gravity well around them; we knew them, because two launches had killed themselves, sheared rubble, by entering normal space too close to one of those highly dense dwarfs. He told us about the black holes that were places where a dense star had been, now detectable only by the observable fact that they swallowed everything nearby, even light; they had not merely bent the gravity well, they had wrapped it around themselves like a blanket. He described stars as thin as air, immense clouds of glowing gas; told us about the prestars of the Orion Nebula, just now blossoming into loose knots of warm gas that might in a million years be suns. His lectures were very popular; even old hands like Shicky and Dane Metchnikov showed up. While I listened to the professor I could feel the wonder and beauty of space. It was too immense and glorious to be frightening, and it was not until later that I would relate those sinks of radiation and swamps of thin gas to me, to the frail, frightened, pain-sensitive creation that was the body I inhabited. And then I would think about going out among those remote titans and my soul curled up inside me. After one of those meetings I said good-bye to Susie and Francy and sat in an alcove near the lecture room, half hidden by the ivy, and despondently smoked a joint. Shicky found me there, and halted just in front of me, supporting himself on his wings. "I was looking for you, Rob," he said, and stopped. The grass was just beginning to hit me. "Interesting lecture," I said absently, reaching for the good feeling that I wanted from the joint and not really very interested in whether Shicky file:///F|/rah/Frederik%20Pohl/Pohl,%20Frederik%20-%20Heechee%201%20-%20Gateway.txt (93 of 109) [1/15/03 6:31:21 PM] file:///F|/rah/Frederik%20Pohl/Pohl,%20Frederik%20-%20Heechee%201%20-%20Gateway.txt was there or not. "You missed the most interesting part," said Shicky. It occurred to me that he was looking both fearful and hopeful; there was something on his mind. I took another hit, and offered him the joint; he shook his head. "Rob," he said, "I think there is something worth having coming up." "Really?" "Yes, really, Rob! Something quite good. And soon." I was not ready for this. I wanted to go on smoking my joint until the temporary thrill of the lecture had worn off, so that I could go back to destroying the days. The last thing I wanted was to hear about some new mission that my guilt would make me want to sign on for, and my fear would abort. Shicky caught the shelf of ivy and held himself up by it, looking at me curiously. "Rob- friend," he said, "if I can find something out for you will you help me?" "Help you how?" ---------------------------------------- Dearest Father, Mother, Marisa and Pico -- Hello, Please tell Susie's father that she is very well and is regarded with favor by her officers. You can decide for yourselves whether to tell him that she has been seeing much of my friend Rob Broadhead. He is a good man and a serious one, but he is not a fortunate one. Susie has applied for leave to go on a mission, and if the captain grants it she speaks of going with Broadhead. We all speak of going but, as you know, we do not all do it, so perhaps it is not to be worried about. This must be very short; it is almost docking time, and I have a 48 for Gateway. With all love, Francescito ---------------------------------------- "Take me with you!" he cried. "I can do everything but go in the lander. And this mission, I think, is one where it does not so much matter. There is a bonus for everyone, even for someone who must remain in orbit." "What are you talking about?" The grass was hitting me now; I could feel the warmth behind my knees and the gentle blur all around me. "Metchnikov was talking to the lecturer," Shicky said. "I think from what he said that he knows of a new mission. Only -- they spoke in Russian, and I did not understand very well. But it is the one he has been waiting for." I said reasonably, "The last one he went out on wasn't much, was it?" "This is different!" "I don't think he would really cut me in on anything good--" "Certainly not, if you don't ask." "Oh, hell," I grumbled. "All right. I'll talk to him." Shicky beamed. "And then, Rob, please -- take me with you?" I stubbed out the joint, less than half smoked; I felt as though I wanted what was left of my wits about me. "I'll do what I can," I said, and headed back for the lecture room just as Metchnikov was coming out. We had not spoken since he had returned. He looked as solid and broad as ever, and his [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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