Гарри Гаррисон: Planet Of No Return

“Well — do you like what you see?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. But I read your history in the records. I never met anyone from Earth before.”

“What did you expect — two heads?”

“I said that I was sorry. Before I left my home world and went into space I really believed that the whole story of Earth was just another religious myth.”

“Well, now you can see for yourself that we are real undernourished flesh and blood. Underfed citizens of an overcrowded and worn out planet. Probably just what we deserve, I imagine you would say.”

“No. I might have at one time. No more. I’m sure that the Earth Empire was guilty of a number of excesses, just the sort of thing we read about in our school books. No one’s in doubt about that. But all of that’s just history now, ancient history thousands of years in the past. What is of much greater importance to me is the fate of all the planets that were cut off after the Breakdown. It wasn’t until I saw for myself what had happened to some of them that I knew what an unyielding and harsh universe it could be. Mankind basically belongs only on Earth. You may feel personally inferior because the overcrowding and limited resources have caused an overall reduction in your size. But you belong on Earth — and are a product of Earth. A number of us may appear larger or stronger than you — but this is because we have been forced to adapt to some cruel and violent worlds. I’ve become used to that — I even accept it as the norm. It wasn’t until I saw you that I realized that the home of mankind was still a reality.” He smiled a crooked grin.

“Please don’t think me foolish for saying this,” he said, “but I experienced a sensation of both pleasure — and relief — when I met you. Like a child discovering his long-lost parents. I’m afraid I’m not saying this very well. It’s like coming home after a long voyage. I have seen the way mankind has adapted to a score of planets. Meeting you is, in a funny way a reassuring bit of knowledge. Our home is still there. I am very happy to meet you.”

“I believe you, Carver.” She smiled. “And I’m forced to admit that I’m beginning to like you too. Though I have to admit that you are not too good to look at.”

He laughed and leaned back, sipping at the cold drink that had been delivered automatically to the table at his side. “Give me a year and you’ll never recognize me.”

“I am sure that will be true. I’m a biologist, an exobiologist, so I know in theory what can be done with restoration growth, I’m sure that you will be as good as new after some time. But that’s just theory — I’ve never seen it in practice before. We’re not rich on Earth, so few of us can afford massive reconstruction like yours.”

“This is one of the few benefits of working for Culrel. They put you back together again no matter how badly you get butchered. I’m going to have a new eye behind this patch in a few months.”

“How very nice. But speaking personally I would like to avoid all the benefits of this kind of reconstruction if you don’t mind.”

“Good luck in that — I don’t blame you.”

They both looked up as Brion returned with the viewer. He took the recording cartridge from Carver and slipped it into the mechanism. He and Lea bent close as the screen lit up. Carver collapsed back and listened to the recording while he sipped at his glass. He had heard it often before and he dozed a bit through the early material, but snapped awake as it approached the end. Hartig’s recorded voice continued to speak, sounding calm and precise, although he faced certain extinction, still trying to the last to leave a record for those who would follow after him. Lea was horrified as the recording ended and the screen cleared; Brion’s impassive face displayed no emotion as he turned to Carver.

“And Culrel wants us to go to this planet, Selm-II?” He asked. Carver nodded. “Why? This looks more like a job for the troops. Shouldn’t they be sending something large and well armed that can take care of itself?”

“No. That’s exactly what we don’t want. Experience has proven that armed intrusion is never the answer. War does not work. War kills. What we need is knowledge, information. We must know what is happening on this planet. We need skilled people like you two. Perhaps Dis was your first assignment, something that you were drafted into against your wishes. But you succeeded magnificently, doing what the specialists themselves said couldn’t be done. We want you to put those talents to use here. I’ll not deny that it could be terribly dangerous. But it must be done.”

“I hadn’t planned on living forever,” Lea said, then leaned over to order some strong drinks. Her flippancy did not fool Brion.

“I’ll go by myself,” he said. “I can do this better alone.”

“Oh no you can’t, you great big brainless slab of muscle. You’re not bright enough to be let out alone. I go with you or you don’t go. Try to go by yourself and I will shoot you right here to save the expense of transporting you there just to be knocked off.”

Brion smiled at this. “Your sympathy and understanding are most touching. I agree. Your logical arguments have convinced me that that it would be best if we went together.”

“Good.” She grabbed up the glass as soon as it appeared from the dispenser and drank deeply from it. “What’s the next step, Carver?”

“A difficult one. We must convince the captain of this ship to change course and divert to Selm-II. An operational craft will be in orbit around the planet by now and will be waiting for us there.”

“What’s difficult about that?” Brion asked.

“l see that you have never met the captain of a deep spacer before. They are all very firm minded. And in absolute command while in flight. We can’t force him to change course. We can only convince him.”

“I’ll convince him,” Brion said, standing and looming large over them both. “We’ve taken on this assignment and no little spaceship driver is going to stand in our way.”

Captain M’Luta might be described in a number of ways. But never, by any reach of the imagination, could he be called a ” little spaceship driver.” He and Brion Brandd stood toe to toe, glaring at each other. They were both very large men, both solid and tall — if anything the Captain was a slight bit taller. He was as just as muscular as Brion — and equally pugnacious. They were very much alike in almost every way, with the slight difference that Brion’s skin was a tanned bronze while the Captain’s was a deep black.

“The answer is no,” Captain M’Luta said, the coldness of his tone concealing his growing anger. “You may now leave my bridge.”

“I don’t think you understood me correctly, Captain. I was making a simple and informal request.”

“Good. Informal request denied.” “I haven’t told you the reasons for this request yet …”

“Nor will you ever if I have my way. And I will have my way. I am the Captain of this ship. I have a crew, passengers, and a cargo to think of. As well as my schedule. These come first with me at all times. This has already been disrupted by your people, for the contact and rendezvous to enable you to pick up a drop sphere. I did that because I was informed that it was an emergency. That emergency is now over. Will you leave or must I have you ejected?”

“Why don’t you try.”

Brion’s voice was low, almost a whisper. But his fists were clenched, his muscles taut as he glared at the Captain. Who glared right back. Carver shuffled forward, pushing between them with some effort.

“This has gone far enough,” he said. “Now I must intervene before the situation gets out of hand. Brandd, please join Dr. Morees. Now.”