SFworld 版 (精华区)
作 家: xian (专心致志) on board 'SFworld'
题 目: The Martian Way (6)
来 源: 哈尔滨紫丁香站
日 期: Sun Nov 9 14:31:57 1997
出 处: byh.bbs@bbs.net.tsinghua.edu.cn
发信人: KingKongKang (KKK经理/裁判), 信区: SFworld
标 题: The Martian Way (6)
发信站: BBS 水木清华站 (Thu Oct 30 18:04:21 1997)
6.
Half a million miles above Saturn, Mario Rioz was
cradled on nothing and sleep was delicious. He came out
of it slowly and for a while, alone in his suit, he counted
the stars and traced lines from one to another.
At first, as the weeks flew past, it was scavenging all
over again, except for the gnawing felling that every
minute meant an additional number of thousands of miles
away from all humanity. That made it worse.
They had aimed high to pass out of the ecliptic while
moving through the Asteroid Belt. That had used up water
and had probably been unnecessary. Although tens of
thousands of worldlets look as thick as vermin in two-
dimensional projection upon a photographic plate, they are
nevertheless scattered so thinly through the quadrillions of
cubic miles that make up their conglomerate orbit that
only the most ridiculous of coincidences would have
brought about a collision.
Still, they paused over the Belt and someone calculated
the chances of collision with a fragment of matter large
enough to do damage. The value was so low, so impossibly
low, that it was perhaps inevitable that the notion
of the "space-float" should occur to someone.
The days were long and many, space was empty, only
one man was needed at the controls at any one time. The
thought was a natural.
First, it was a particularly daring one who ventured
out for fifteen minutes or so. Then another who tried
half an hour. Eventually, before the asteroids were entirely
behind, each ship regularly had its off-watch member
suspended in space at the end of a cable.
It was easy enough. The cable, one of those intended
for operations at the conclusion of their journey, was
magnetically attached at both ends, one the lock onto the
ship's hull and attached the other end there. You paused
awhile, clinging to the metal skin by the electromagnets in
your boots. Then you neutralized those and made the
slightest muscular effort.
Slowly, ever so slowly, you lifted from the ship and
even more slowly the ship's larger mass moved an equivalently
shorter distance downward. You floated incredibly,
weightlessly, in solid, speckled black. When the ship had
moved far enough away from you, your gauntleted hand,
which kept touch upon the cable, tightened its grip
slightly. Too tightly, and you would begin moving back
toward the ship and it toward you. Just tightly enough,
and friction would halt you. Because your motion was
equivalent to that of the ship, it seemed as motionless
below you as though it had been painted against an impossible
background while the cable between you hung
in coils that had no reason to straighten out.
It was a half-ship to your eye. One half was lit by the
light of the feeble Sun, which was still too bright to lock
at directly without the heavy protection of the polarized
space-suit visor. The other half was black on black,
invisible.
Space closed in and was like sleep. Your suit was warm,
it renewed its air automatically, it had food and drink in
special containers from which it could be sucked with a
minimal motion of the head, it took care of wastes
appropriately. Most of all, more than anything else, there was
the delightful euphoria of weightlessness.
You never felt so well in your life. The days stopped
being too long, they weren't long enough, and there
wasn't enough of them.
They had passed Jupiter's orbit at a spot some 30
degrees from its then position. For months, it was the
brightest object in the sky, always excepting the glowing
white pea that was the Sun. At its brightest, some of the
Scavengers insisted they could make out Jupiter as a tiny
sphere, one side squashed out of true by the night shadow.
Then over a period of additional months it faded, while
another dot of light grew until it was brighter than Jupiter.
It was Saturn, first as a dot of brilliance, then as an
oval, glowing splotch.
("Why oval?" someone asked, and after a while, someone
else said, "The rings, of course," and it was obvious.)
Everyone space-floated at all possible times toward the
end, watching Saturn incessantly.
("Hey, you jerk, come on back in, damn it. You're on
duty." "Who's on duty? I've got fifteen minutes more by
my watch." "You set your watch back. Besides, I gave you
twenty minutes yesterday." "You wouldn't give two minutes
to your grandmother." "Come on in, damn it, or I'm
coming out anyway." "All right, I'm coming. Holy howlers,
what a racket over a lousy minute." But no quarrel could
possibly be serious, not in space. It felt too good.)
Saturn grew until at last it rivaled and then surpassed
the Sun. The rings, set at a broad angle to their trajectory
of approach, swept grandly about the planet,
only a small portion being eclipsed. Then, as they approached,
the span of the rings grew still wider, yet
narrower as the angle of approach constantly decreased.
The larger moons showed up in the surrounding sky
like serene fireflies.
Mario Rioz was glad he was awake so that he could
watch again.
Saturn filled half the sky, streaked with orange, the
night shadow cutting it fuzzily nearly one quarter of the
way in from the right. Two round little dots in the brightness
were shadows of two of the moons. To the left and
behind him (he could look over his left shoulder to see,
and as he did so, the rest of his body inched slightly to
the right to conserve angular momentum) was the white
diamond of the Sun.
Most of all he liked to watch the rings. At the left, they
emerged from behind Saturn, a tight, bright triple band
of orange light. At the right, their beginnings were hidden
in the night shadow, but showed up closer and broader.
They widened as they came, like the flare of a horn,
growing hazier as they approached, until, while the eye
followed them, they seemed to full the sky and loss themselves.
From the position of the Scavenger fleet just inside the
outer rim of the outermost ring, the rings broke up and
assumed their true identity as a phenomenal cluster of
solid fragments rather than the tight, solid band of light
they seemed.
Below him, or rather in the direction his feet pointed,
some twenty miles away, was one of the ring fragments.
It looked like a large, irregular splotch, marring the
symmetry of space, three quarters in brightness and the night
shadow cutting it like a knife. Other fragments were farther
off, sparking like stardust, dimmer and thicker, until as
you followed them down, they became rings once more.
The fragments were motionless, but that was only
because the ships had taken up an orbit about Saturn
equivalent to that of the outer edge of the rings.
The day before, Rioz reflected, he had been on that
nearest fragment, working along with more than a score of
others to mold it into the desired shape. Tomorrow he
would be at it again.
Today --- today he was space-floating.
"Mario?" The voice that broke upon his earphones was
questioning.
Momentarily Rioz was flooded with annoyance. Damn
it, he wasn't in the mood for company.
"Speaking," he said.
"I thought I had your ship spotted. How are you?"
"Fine. That you, Ted?"
"That's right," said Long.
"Anything wrong on the fragment?"
"Nothing. I'm out here floating."
"You?"
"It gets me, too, occasionally. Beautiful, isn't it?"
"Nice," agreed Rioz.
"You know, I've read Earth books ---"
"Grounder books, you mean." Rioz yawned and found
it difficult under the circumstances to use the expressions
with the proper amount of resentment.
"--- and something I read descriptions of people lying
on grass," continued Long. "You know that green stuff
like thin, long pieces of paper they have all over the
ground down there, and they look up at the blue sky with
clouds in it. Did you ever see any films of that?"
"Sure. It didn't attract me. It looked cold."
"I suppose it isn't, though. After all, Earth is quite
close to the Sun, and they say their atmosphere is thick
enough to hold the heat. I must admit that personally I
would hate to be caught under open sky with nothing on
but clothes. Still, I imagine they like it."
"Grounders area nuts!"
"They talk about the trees, big brown stalks, and the
winds, air movements, you know."
"You mean drafts. They can keep that, too."
"It doesn't matter. The point is they describe it
beautifully, almost passionately. Many times I've wondered,
'What's it really like? Will I ever feel it or is this
something only Earthmen can possibly feel?' I've felt so often
that I was missing something vital. Now I know what it
must be like. It's this. Complete peace in the middle of a
beauty-drenched universe."
Rioz said, "They wouldn't like it. The Grounders, I
mean. They're so used to their own lousy little world they
wouldn't appreciate what it's like to float and look down
on Saturn." He flipped his body slightly and began swaying
back and forth about his center of mass, slowly,
soothingly.
Long said, "Yes, I think so too. They're slaves to their
planet. Even if they come to Mars, it will only be their
children that are free. There'll be starships someday;
great, huge things that can carry thousands of people and
maintain their self-contained equilibrium for decades,
maybe centuries. Mankind will spread through the whole
Galaxy. But people will have to live their lives out on
shipboard until new methods of interstellar travel are
developed, so it will be Martians, not planet-bound Earthmen,
who will colonize the Universe. That's inevitable. It's got
to be. It's the Martian way."
But Rioz made no answer. He had dropped off to sleep
again, rocking and swaying gently, half a million miles
above Saturn.
--
KK KK KK KK KK KK
KK KK KK KK KK KK
KKKK KKKK KKKK
KK KK KK KK KK KK
KK KK KK KK KK KK
※ 来源:·BBS 水木清华站 bbs.net.tsinghua.edu.cn·[FROM: tc60.cic.tsingh]
--
※ 来源:·哈尔滨紫丁香站 bbs1.hit.edu.cn·[FROM: byh.bbs@bbs.net.tsin]
Powered by KBS BBS 2.0 (http://dev.kcn.cn)
页面执行时间:204.630毫秒