ZX Pilot #17 09 декабря 1997

Самиздат

Fantasy - A Tale Strugatsky "Way to Amalthea (continued).

   FICTION


Continued. Start cm at # 16.



   CHAPTER ONE. Photonic TRUCK "Tahmasib"



  1. FITS spaceship to Jupiter, and capital

     Quarrel with navigators and ADOPTS SPORAMIN


   Alexei Petrovich Bykov, captain of the truck photon 
"Tahmasib", came out of the cabin, and gently shut the door 
behind him. His hair was wet. The captain has just taken a 
shower. He received even two showers - the water and ion, but 
it still swaying after short sleep. Sleep still wanted, so that 
the eye does not opened. Over the past three days, he slept a 
total of not more than five hours. The flight turned out to be 
difficult. 

   The corridor was empty and bright. Bulls went to the 
wheelhouse, trying not to scuff. In the control room had to go 
through the cabin. The door to the wardroom was open, there 
came the sound of voices. Voice belonged Planetology Dauge and 
Yurkovsky and sounded, it seemed Bykov, extremely irritated and 
strangely hollow. 

   "Once they started a something - thought the Bulls. - And 
there was no no escape. And cursed them properly is impossible, 
because that they are still my friends and terribly pleased 
that in this flight, we together. Not so often that we get 
together. " 

   Bulls stepped into the wardroom and stopped, placing his 
foot on the coaming. The bookcase was discovered, the books 
were on the floor and fall of were sloppy bunch. Tablecloth 
from the table slid. From under the sofa stuck out a long, 
narrow, covered with gray pants legs Yurkovski. Legs twitching 
excitedly. 

   - I'm telling you, she's not here - said Dauge.

   Most Dauge could not see.

   - You look for it, - said the smothered voice Yurkovsky .- 
lying, so look.


   - What is happening here? - Angrily asked the Bulls.

   - Ah, here it is! - Said Dauge and crawled out from under 
the table. 

   His face was cheerful, jacket and collar unbuttoned. 
Yurkovski, backing away, out from under the couch. 

   - What is it? - Bykov said.

   - Where is my Varechka? - Asked Yurkovski, rising to his 
feet. He was very angry.


   - Monster! - Said Dauge.

   - No-zdelniki - said Bykov.

   - This is it - said Dauge tragic voice. - Look at
his face, Vladimir! Executioner!

   - I say quite seriously, Alexei - said Yurkovski.

   - Where is my Varechka?

   - Do you know what planetary scientists - said the Bulls. - 
Come to hell! 

   He stuck out his jaw and went to the wheelhouse. Dauge said 
the following: 

   - He slept Varechka in a reactor.

   Bulls roar slammed a door.

   In the control room was quiet. In the usual place at the 
table with the calculator sat mate Michael Antonovich Krutikov, 
propping chubby fist double chin. Computational softly rustled, 
blinking neon lights warning lights. Michael Antonovich looked

the captain kindly eyes, and said:

   - Good sleep Leshenka?

   - Well, - said Bykov.

   - I took the bearings of Amalthea, - said Mikhail 
Antonovich. - They're so much waiting, so wait ... - He shook 
his head. - Imagine, Leshenka, they rate: two hundred and fifty 
grams of biscuits grams of chocolate. And hlorellovaya chowder. 
Three hundred grams hlorellovoy soup. It's so tasteless! 

   "You would be there - he thought the Bulls. - That's the 
lost would be fat." He looked angrily at the navigator and 
could not resist - he smiled. Michael Antonovich, anxiously 
sticking his thick lips, looked at bordered sheet of blue paper.


   - Here, Leshenka - he said. - I was finish-program.
Check, please.

   Usually check exchange program, compiled by Michael
Antonovich, not worth it. Michael Antonovich was still
the thickest and most experienced navigator interplanetary 
fleet. 

   - Then check - said the Bulls. He yawned sweetly, covering
mouth with his hand. - Putting the program in kibershturman.

   - I Leshenka already introduced - apologetically said 
Mikhail Antonovich. 

   - Aha, - said Bykov. - Well, well. Where are we now?

   - An hour later, go to the finish line, - said Mikhail 
Antonovich. - Pass over the north pole of Jupiter's ... - The 
word "Jupiter" he said with evident pleasure, - a distance of 
two diameters, two hundred and ninety megametrov. And then - 
the last round. Can assume we have already arrived, Alexis ...


   - Distance from the center of Jupiter think?

   - Yes, from the center.

   - When I get to the finish, going every fifteen minutes to 
give distance to the exosphere.


   - Yes, Leshenka, - said Mikhail Antonovich.

   Bulls again yawned, rubbed his fists in vexation sticky
eyes and walked along the remote alarm. There was
everything is in order. The engine worked without interruption, 
plasma came a working rhythm, tuning of the magnetic trap was 
kept immaculately. For the magnetic trap answered flight 
engineer Zhilin. "Well done, Zhilin - thought the Bulls. - Well 
Regulated, Malek. 

   Bulls stopped and tried a little by changing course to bring 
down the setting of traps. Setting not stray. White bunny in a 
transparent plastic plate did not move. "Well done, Malek, once 
thought the Bulls. He rounded convex wall - housing 
photoreactor. We combine the control of the reflector was 
Zhilin with a pencil in his teeth. He rested both hands on the 
edge of the remote and scarcely markedly danced tap, moving to 
the mighty blades bent back. 

   - Hello, Ivan, - said Bykov.

   - Hello, Alexei Petrovich - Zhilin said, quickly turning 
around. The pencil dropped from his teeth, and he deftly caught 
it on the fly.


   - As a reflector? - Asked the Bulls.

   - Reflector in the order - said Zhilin, but the Bulls still 
bent over the console and pulled tight blue ribbon entry 
control system. 

   Reflector - the most important and fragile element of the 
photon actuator, a giant parabolic mirror covered with five 
layers of Ultra long mezoveschestva. In foreign literature, the 
reflector is often called the "Sale" - a sail. The focus of the 
paraboloid every second explode, turning into a light, millions 
of servings of deuterium-tritium plasma. Stream of pale violet 
flame hits the reflector surface and creates a pulling force. 
In the layer mezoveschestva appear gigantic heat, and gradually 
mezoveschestvo - layer by layer - is burned. In addition, the 
reflector continuously erodes meteoric corrosion. And if the 
engine is destroyed reflector at the base, where to adjoin the 
thick tube photoreactor, the ship will become in an instant 
silent outbreak. Therefore, reflective photonic ships are 
changing every hundred astronomical units of the flight. 
Therefore, controlling the system continuously measures the 
state of the working layer over the entire surface of the 
reflector. 

   - So, Bykov said, twirling his fingers tape. - The first 
layer is burned. 

   Zhilin said nothing.

   - Michael! - Called the Bulls. - You know that the first 
layer of burnt out? 

   - I know Leshenka - said the navigator. - What do you want?
Oversan, Leshenka ...

   "Oversan" or "jump through the Sun," is rare and
Only in exceptional cases - as now, when the "Dzheystantsiyah" 
hunger. When oversane between start - the planet and the Sun is 
finishplanetoy - the location is very disadvantageous from the 
viewpoint of "direct kosmogatsii. When oversane photon engine 
working on limiting regimes, vehicle speed reaches six or seven 
thousand miles per second, and on the devices begin to affect 
the effects of non-classical mechanics, which were studied is 
still very small. The crew almost did not sleep, consumption of 
fuel and the reflector is enormous, and to top it off the ship, 
usually coming to finishplanete from the pole, which is 
inconvenient and difficult landing. 

   - Yes, - said Bykov. - Oversan. Here's Oversan.

   He returned to the navigator and looked at the flow of fuel.

   - Let me finish up programs, Misha - he said.

   - One moment, Leshenka - said the navigator.

   He was very busy. On the table were scattered blue sheets
paper, softly humming semi attachment to e-evaluator. Bulls 
sank into a chair and covered his eyelids. He dimly seen 
Michael Antonovich, never taking his eyes off the record 
reached out to the panel and quickly moving the fingers, ran 
over keys. His hand looked like a large white spider. 
Computational boomed louder and stopped flashing brake light. 

   - What do you Leshenka? - Asked the navigator, looking at 
his notes. 

   - Finish-program - said Alexei Petrovich barely razleplyaya
ever.

   From the output device crawled tabulogramma, and Michael 
Antonovich, grabbed it with both hands. 

   - Now, - he said hastily. - Now.

   Bulls sweetly buzzing in the ears, eyelids yellow sail
lights. He dropped his head on his chest.

   - Leshenka - said the navigator. He reached across the table 
and tapped on the shoulder Bykov. - Leshenka, this program ... 

   Bykov started, jerked his head and looked around. He
took the scribbled sheets.

   - Khe-hum ... - He cleared his throat and moved his skin on 
his forehead. - So. Again, the theta-algorithm ... - He stared 
dreamily into the record. 

   - Took You should have Leshenka, sporamin, - has advised the 
navigator. 

   - Wait, - said Bykov. - Wait. What's that? You
that crazy, mate?

   Michael Antonovich jumped up, ran around the table and bent 
over Bykov's shoulder.


   - Where? - He asked.

   - Where are you flying? - Venomously said Bykov. - Maybe you
think you are flying on Seventh landfill?

   - Yes, what's the matter, Alex?

   - Or perhaps you imagine that Amalthea built
tritium generator for you?

   - If you're talking about fuel, - said Mikhail Antonovich - 
then the fuel will last for three such programs ... 

   Bulls finally woke up.

   - I need to sit on Amalthea - he said. - Then I must
go with a planetary exosphere and get back on Amalthea. AND
then I'll have to return to Earth. And it will again be Oversan!

   - Wait, - said Mikhail Antonovich. - Wait a minute ...

   - You to me are thinking of a crazy program, as us
waiting for fuel storage!

   Hatch in the wheelhouse parted. Bulls turned. In the formed
slot squeezed head Dauge. Head led to cutting the eyes,
said inquiringly:

   - Listen, guys, there is no Varechka?

   - Get out! - Snapped the Bulls.

   His head instantly disappeared. Luke quietly closed.

   - A rascal - said Bykov. - And that's what, mate! If
I did not have enough fuel to return Oversan badly you will.

   - Do not yell, please - indignantly said Michael Antonovich.
He thought a moment and added, blushing: - Damn ...

   There was silence. Michael Antonovich has returned to his 
seat, and they looked at each other sulkily. Michael Antonovich 
said: 

   - Toss in the exosphere, I figured. Reverse Oversan I also 
almost figured .- He put his palm on a pile of leaves on the 
table. - A If you are a coward, we are well able to refuel at 
Antimarse ... 

   Antimarsom kosmogatory called artificial planet, moving 
almost to the orbit of Mars on the other side of the Sun. In 
fact case, it was a huge fuel depot, a fully automated petrol 
station. 

   - And so does not need me ... scream, - said Mikhail 
Antonovich. The word "yell" he said in a whisper. Michael 
Antonovich cool. Bulls too cool. 

   - Well, - he said. - Sorry, Misha.

   Michael Antonovich just smiled.

   - I was wrong - added the Bulls.

   - Oh, Leshenka, - said Mikhail Antonovich quickly .- Trivia.
Perfect nonsense ... But you see what turns an amazing round. 
From the vertical - he began to show his hands, - in plane of 
the Amalthea and above the exosphere by the inertial ellipse at 
the point of meeting. And at the meeting is the relative 
velocity only four meters per second. Maximum Overload only 
twenty-two per cent, while only about thirty minutes of 
weightlessness - forty. And a very small computational errors.


   - Errors are small because of the theta-algorithm - said 
Bykov. He wanted to say nice navigator: the theta algorithm was 
developed and first used by Michael Antonovich.


   Michael Antonovich gave an uncertain sound. He was pleasantly
confused. Watched program bulls to end several times in a row
nodded, and laid sheets, rubbed his eyes huge freckled fists.

   - Frankly speaking, - he said - not a damn thing I have not 
had enough sleep. 

   - Take sporamin, Alex - persuasively reiterated Michael 
Antonovich. - Here I am taking on the pill every two hours and 
completely I do not want to sleep. Vanya, too. Well, why worry 
so? 

   - I do not like this chemistry - said Bykov.On jumped up and 
paced in the wheelhouse. - Listen, Michael, and that this is 
happening on my ship? 

   - What's the matter, Leshenka? - Asked the navigator.

   - Again, planetary scientists - said the Bulls.

   Zhilin because of the housing photoreactor explained:

   - Disappeared somewhere Varechka.

   - Well? - Bykov said. - Finally. - He again went through
wheelhouse. - Children aged children.

   - You really do not get angry at them, Leshenka - said the 
navigator. 

   - You know, comrades - Bulls sank into a chair. - The worst 
in flight - it's passengers. A very nasty passengers - is old 
friends. Let me, perhaps, sporaminu, Misha. 

   Michael Antonovich hastily pulled from his pocket 
korobochku.Bykov watched him with sleepy eyes.


   - Give two tablets at once, - he said.



     2. Planetary SEEK Varechka,
A RADIOOPTIK know what BEGEMOT


   - He kicked me out - said Dauge, returning to the cabin 
Yurkovski. 

   Yurkovski stood on a chair in the middle of the cabin and 
fingered hands soft matte ceiling. The floor was scattered 
crushed sugar cookies. 

   - So she's there - said Yurkovski.

   He jumped from his chair, brushed the crumbs from his knees, 
and called white plaintively:


   - Varechka, my life, where are you?

   - Have you tried it suddenly sit in the chair? - Asked Dauge.

   He walked over to the couch and a pillar fell on him, 
stretched out his hands at the seams.


   - You'll kill her! - Shouted Yurkovski.

   - It's not here, - said Dauge and sat back, cocked
feet on the couch. - This here is the operation should produce
over all the sofas and armchairs. Varechka likes to take up
soft.

   Yurkovski dragged the chair closer to the wall.

   - No, - he said. - In flight she loves to climb on the wall
and ceilings.

   - Lord! - Dauge sighed. - And that just does not occur to 
planetary scientists, muzzy from idleness! - He sat down, 
looked at Yurkovsky and whispered ominously: - I'm sure it's 
Alex. He always hated it. 

   Yurkovski stared at Dauge.

   - Yes - continued Dauge. - Always. You know it. And for what?
She was so quiet ... so cute ...

   - You're a fool, Gregory - said Yurkovski. - You act up, and
I really would be a great pity if it lost.

   He sat on a chair, rested his elbows on his knees and his 
chin resting on compressed kulaki.Vysoky zalysy his forehead 
gathered in the wrinkles, black eyebrows tragically broken.


   - Well, well, - said Dauge. - Where did it disappear from 
the ship? She still exists.


   - There, - said Yurkovski. - She now has to go. But she
She never asks or starve.

   - So too will die! - Dauge questioned.

   - It was twelve days, nothing ela.S the start. And she
it's terribly bad.

   - Popping want - come - surely said Dauge. - This
common to all forms of life.

   Yurkovski shook his head:

   - No. She will not come, Grisha.

   He climbed on a chair and was again inch by inch feeling the 
ceiling. Knock at the door. Then the door gently slid side and 
on the threshold stood a small black-haired Charles Mollard, 
radiooptik. 

   - Sign? - Said Mollard.

   - That's right - said Dauge.

   Mollard clasped his hands.

   - Mais non! - He exclaimed, smiling. He was always happy 
smile. - Non "enter". I would like to know: I come in? 

   - Of course - said Yurkovski the chair. - Of course, enter,
Charles. What's already here.

   Mollard entered, closed the door and threw back his head 
with curiosity. 

   - Waldemar - he said, great burr. - You learn
walk on the ceiling?

   - Wee, madam, - said Dauge with a terrible accent. - In 
terms of Monsieur, of course. Actually, il Cherche la Varechka.


   - No, no! - Cried Mollard. He even waved his hands .- Only
not so. Only in Russian. I can only speak in Russian!

   Yurkovski tears from his chair and asked:

   - Charles, you have not seen my Varechka?

   Mollard wagged his finger at him.

   - Bu kidding me - he said, making arbitrary stress.
- Bu kidding me twelve days .- He sat on the couch next to 
Dauge. - What is Varechka? Many times I slyshall "Varechka, 
today the form of looking for, but I did not videll any one 
time. Huh? - He looked at Dauge. - It ptichka? Or is it koshka? 
Or ... er ... 

   - Hippo? - Said Dauge.

   - What is a hippopotamus? - Asked Mollard.

   - Se a lirondey - said Dauge. - Swallow.

   - Oh, l'hirondelle! - Said Mollard. - Hippo?

   - Jess - said Dauge. - Natyurlih.

   - Non, non! Only in Russian! - He turned to Yurkovski. -
Gregoire says is true?

   - Nonsense smacks Gregoire - angrily said Yurkovski. - 
Nonsense. 

   Mollard looked at him.

   - Wee upset, Vladimir, - he said. - Can I help?

   - No, probably Charles. You just have to look for. Feel all
hands, as I ...

   - Why feel? - Surprised Mollard. - Wee say, she looks
what is there. I'll look for it.

   - Ha, - said Yurkovski - I wish I knew what she
Now look.

   Mollard leaned back on the sofa and covered his eyes with 
his hand. 

   - Je ne comprand pas, - he said plaintively. - I do not 
understand. Y It has no form? Or I do not understand in Russian?


   - No, that's right, Charles, - said Yurkovski. - View from 
her course. Just different, you know? When it is on the ceiling,

it as a ceiling. When on the couch - as a sofa ...

   - And when Gregoire, she Gregoire - said Mollard. - Bu
All kidding.

   - He speaks the truth - came Dauge. - Varechka all the time
changing remarkably masked okrasku.Mimikriya.Ona, you know?
Mimicry.

   - Mimicry of a swallow? - Bitterly said Mollard.

   The door knocked again.

   - Sign up! - Gleefully shouted Mollard.

   - Login - translated Yurkovski.

   Entered Zhilin, a huge, red-faced and somewhat shy.

   - Sorry, Vladimir Sergeevich - he said, somewhat leaning 
forward. - Me ... 

   - Oh! - Mollard cried, flashing a smile. He is a very good 
pleasure to flight engineer. - Le petit ingenieur! <Little 
Engineer (French)> How zhizn, well-oh?


   - Well, - said Zhilin.

   - As a girl, well-oh?

   - Well, - said Zhilin. He was used. - Bon.

   - Beautiful pronons - said Dauge with envy. - By the way,
Charles, why do you always ask Vanya as a girl?

   - I like girls - seriously said Mollard. - And always
interested in both.

   - Bon - said Dauge. - Zhe Wu kompran.

   Jilin turned Yurkovsky:

   - Vladimir Sergeyevich, I sent the captain. Forty minutes 
later, We'll get through periiovy, almost in the exosphere.


   Yurkovski jumped.

   - Finally!

   - If you observe, I am at your disposal.

   - Thanks, Ivan - said Yurkovski. He turned to Dauge.
- Well, Ioganych, go!

   - Hold on, brown Dzhup - said Dauge.

   - Les hirondelles, les hirondelles, - sang Mollard. - I
I'll go cook dinner. Today I am on duty, and lunch will be 
soup. Bu love soup, Vanya?


   Zhilin not have time to answer, because spaceship strongly 
swayed and he tumbled out the door, barely having time to grab 
the jamb. Yurkovski tripped over the outstretched legs Mollard, 
lolling on the couch and fell Dauge. Dauge gasped.


   - Oh, - said Yurkovski. - It's a meteorite.

   - Stand up with me, - said Dauge.


To be continued ...