Энн Маккефри - The Ship Who Won
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- Название:The Ship Who Won
- Автор:
- Издательство:Baen
- Жанр:
- Год:1994
- ISBN:0-671-87595-7 / 978-0-671-87595-4
- Рейтинг книги:3 / 5. Голосов: 1
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The Ship Who Won: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация
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«But I am not happy here now,» Plenna said plaintively, clasping her hands together in appeal. «If you take me with you, I would cede my claim of power to Brannel and keep my promise to him. There is nothing here to hold me; no family, no friends. I would be glad to learn about other people and other worlds.»
«Yes, but . . .»
She touched his face, and her eyes searched his. «We suit one another, do we not?»
«Yes, but . . .»
She silenced him with a kiss.
«Then please consider it,» she said, cuddling into his arms. Keff crushed her close to him, lost in her scent, lost in her.
In the early morning hours, Carialle monitored her exterior movement sensors until she heard sounds of life from the marshy area downhill from her bluff. She let down her ramp and sent her two servo robots forth into the pink light of dawn. The boxy units disappeared through the break in the brush and over the edge of the ridge. Carialle, idly noting a half dozen spy-eyes hovering at a hundred meters distant, heard clunks and high-pitched squawking as they reached their goal. In a little while, the servos returned to view, herding before them a pair of globe-frogs. The amphibioids tried to signal their indignation, but had to keep paddling on the inside of their plastic spheres before the boxes bumped into them from behind. With some effort, the servos got their quarry up the ramp. Carialle shut the airlock door and pulled up her ramp behind them.
As the frogs entered the main cabin, Carialle hooked into the IT, calling up all the examples of sign language that she and Keff had managed to record over the last few days.
«Now, little friends,» she said, «we're going to see if that sign you made was a fluke or not.» She manifested the picture of another frog on the side screen at their level, like them but with enough differences of color and configuration to make sure they knew it was a stranger.
«Lets chat.»
A few hours later, Keff's door opened, and the brawn emerged, yawning, wearing only uniform pants. Plenna, wrapped in his bathrobe, followed him, trailing a lazy finger down his neck.
«Good morning, young lovers,» Carialle said brightly.
«We have guests.»
Red lights chased around the walls and formed an arrow pointing down at the two globe-frogs huddled together in the corner nearest the airlock corridor. Keff goggled.
«But how did they get past Plenna's barrier? She told me she warded the area. Any intrusion should have set off an alarm.»
«We're protected against magic only,» Plenna said, eyeing the marsh creatures with distaste. «Not vermin.»
«They aren't vermin and they're aware you don't like them,» Carialle said indignantly. «We've been exchanging compliments.»
On her main screen she displayed an expanded image of the small creatures staring at a strange-looking frog on the wall.
«That's my computer-generated envoy,» Carialle explained. «Now, watch,» The image made a gesture, to which the native creatures responded with a similar movement. As the complexity and number of signs increased, the frogs became excited, bumping into one another to respond to their imaginary host.
Keff watched the data string, glancing once in a while at the frogs.
«Monkey see monkey do,» Keff said, shaking his head.
«They observed the Ozran's making signs and copied them. This little performance is without meaning.»
«Beasts Blatisant,» Carialle countered. Keff grimaced. «Keff, I didn't make a subjective judgment on the frequency and meaning of these symbols. Check IT's function log. Read the vocabulary list.»
When Keff lifted his eyes from the small readout screen, they were shining.
«Who'd have thought it?» he said. «Cari, all praise to your sharp wits and powers of observation.»
Plennafrey had been listening carefully to the IT box's translation of Carialle's and Keff's conversation. She pointed to the frogs.
«Do you mean they can talk?» she asked.
«More than that,» Keff said. «They may be the founders of your civilization.» Plenna's jaw dropped open, and she stared at the two amphibioids. «Your belt buckle—may I borrow it?»
The belt flew out of Keff's room and smacked into Plenna's hands. She started to extend it to him, then withdrew it. «What for?» she asked.
«To see if they know what to do with it. Er, take it off the belt. Its too heavy for them.» Obligingly, Plenna detached the buckle and handed it to him.
Very slowly, Keff walked to where the frogs stood. They waited passively within their globes, kicking occasionally at the water to maintain their positions and watching him with their beady black eyes. Keff hunkered down and held out the buckle.
Wearing a startled expression on its peaky face, the larger frog met his eyes. Immediately, the case opened, splitting into two halves, splashing water on the cabin floor, and the frog stretched out for the power item. Its skinny wrist terminated in a long, sensitively fingered hand which outspread was as large as Plennafrey's. The ends of the digits slid into the five apertures. There was a nearly audible click.
«It is connected to the Core of Ozran,» Plennafrey said softly.
The water that had been inside the plastic ball gathered around the frogs body as if still held in place by the shell. Thus sheltered, the amphibioid rose on surprisingly long, skinny legs and made a tour of the cabin. Its small face was alive with wonder. Keff directed it to the astrogation tank showing the position of Ozran and its sun. The frog looked intelligently into the three-dimensional star map, and studied the surrounding control panels and keyboards. Then it returned to Keff.
«Help us,» it signaled.
«You win, lady dear. Here're your Ancient Ones,» Keff said, turning to Plennafrey with a flourish. «They were among you all the time.» The young magiwoman swallowed.
«I . . .» She seemed to have trouble getting the words out. «I do not think that I can respect frogs.»
Chaumel was more philosophical when confronted by the facts.
«I refuse to be surprised,» he said, shaking his head. «All in the space of a day or so, my whole life is thrown into confusion. The fur-faces turn out to be our long-lost brothers and we have cousins in plenty among the stars ready to search us out. Some of them live inside boxes. Why should we not discover that the Ancient Ones exist under our noses in the swamps?»
«Try talking to one of them,» Keff urged him. Doubtfully, Chaumel looked at the three globe-frogs Keff and Plenna had brought to his stronghold. They were rolling around the great room, signing furiously to one another over an artifact or a piece of furniture.
«Well . . .» Chaumel said, uneasily.
«Go on,» Keff said. With a few waves of his hands, Keff got their attention and signed to them to return to him. Once or twice the «courtiers» turned all the way over, trying to negotiate over the slick floor, but the biggest maintained admirable control of his sphere.
After the initial attempts at communication, Keff had let Carialle's two subjects go, asking them to send back one of their leaders. Within an hour, a larger frog speckled with yellow to show its great age had come up the ramp, rolling inside a battered case. A pair of smaller, younger frogs, guards or attendants, hurtled up behind it. The first amphibioid rolled directly over to Plenna and demanded her belt buckle. For his imperious manner as well as his great size, Keff and Carialle had dubbed him the Frog Prince. From the two symbols with which he designated his name, Keff decided he was called something like Tall Eyebrow.
«I'm sure it loses something in the translation,» he explained.
Chaumel knelt and made a few signs of polite greeting. He was unsure of himself at first, but grew enthusiastic when his courtesies were returned and expanded upon.
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