Frederik Pohl Heechee 4 Annals of the Heechee

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people from the furniture was that I had seen pictures of Slugs before. I
couldn't see anything move. They looked funny in another way, too. I didn't
remember exactly what the natural hues of a Sluggard should be, but they
looked as though they had been colored by someone who didn't remember even as
well as I did.
"One is moving!" cried Essie.
It was clever of her to have noticed it. The one in the separate chamber was,
barely, extending a tentacle. It was terribly slow even by meat-human
standards (not to mention my own!). In the Slugs' own terms, however, he was
writhing in great agitation and high speed; you could see little ripply lines
in the sludge all around him, where he had made pressure waves.
"That's one of the new ones," said Cassata. "They finished debriefing the
original crew, so they imported six more males from the Slug planet a few
weeks ago."
"Why is he off by himself?" asked Alicia Lo.
"He's in high-speed mode so he can be interviewed. They thrash around so, you
know? If he were in with the others in high mode, he'd mess up their living
quarters."
Albert said professorially, "I observe we are not viewing them by visible
light."
"No, right. It's tomography, because you couldn't see in visible light in that
slush they live in. Want to hear what he's singing?"
He didn't wait for an answer, but cut in an audio feed. It wasn't the
Sluggard we heard, but a machine translator. It declaimed:
Great blinding blistering brutes
Thrashed and harmed with much cavitation
And many deaths and highly painful injuries- "That's just the latest stanza,"
Cassata explained. "He's only been going for about an hour this time. We have
to let them rest up between sessions. They can't stand high mode very long,
and we can't deal with them at all when they're in normal. Want to keep on
watching them for a while?"
I said, "What I want, General Cassata, is to talk to somebody in authority
around here. How the hell much longer do we have to stall around?"
But Essie put her soft, sweet hand on my lips. "General will let us know
soonest possible, is that not so, Julio? So have nothing better to do."
-also to females the Sluggard's translation finished, and I began to think of
causing some death and highly painful injuries myself.
See, there we were again, caught in the disparity between gigabit time and
meat.
I don't think that I am basically a very patient man, but, oh, how much
patience this machine-stored analog of me has had to learn! Especially in
dealing with meat people. Not to mention with that particularly infuriating
and exceptionally immovable section of the meat population, the military.
I stated my views on this matter for Julio Cassata's benefit. He only grinned
some more. He was enjoying it. Of course, from his point of view, the longer
we waited here, the longer he had left to "live"-that is to say, the
longer his doppel had, and his doppel was obviously reluctant to get itself
terminated. I was a little surprised that he didn't suggest that he take
pretty Alicia Lo off for another little private sightseeing trip-I could well
imagine what sights he had in mind-and perhaps he would have if Albert hadn't
come up with an idea.
He coughed politely and said, "I believe, General Cassata, that the
Sluggards are not the only aliens of whom specimens are present here."
Cassata raised his eyebrows. "You don't mean the Voodoo Pigs?"
"The Voodoo Pigs, yes. Also the Quancies. The Institute has provided colonies
of both for study. Might we see them as well?"
If there is anything less interesting to look at than the Quancies, it is the
Voodoo Pigs, but of course you don't know that until you try. "Oh, Julio,"
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cried Alicia Lo, "could we?" And then of course it was certain that we would.
Cassata shrugged and changed the scene. We were looking at a rocky pool of
gray-green water, where half a dozen fishy-looking creatures were basking
under a pale orange light. We got sound, too, the honking of Quancies chatting
among themselves.
Since I had seen all the Quancies I ever wanted to see, I turned to the table
of snacks. It wasn't that I was hungry-or even "hungry." I just wished we
would get on with it.
I called on all my long training in patience. I didn't like it, but I
had no alternative that I could see. Real-Cassata was still in his meeting,
and doppel-Cassata was just being a good host to us-if, I thought, mostly to
his new girl. But the sky was falling, and it was no time for a trip to the
zoo!
While the white-jacketed waiterthing was handing me a sandwich of chopped
chicken liver and onion-all, of course, as simulated as the waiterthing
itself-Albert wandered over to join me. "A good German bock, please," he said
to the waiter, and smiled at me. "You don't care to hear what the Quancies are
saying to each other, Rob?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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