Citizen in Spase. Stories / Гражданин в Космосе. Рассказы. Книга для чтения на английском языке. Роберт Шекли
on. Roads were constructed, and within a week they crumpled. Food seemed to spoil at an alarming rate, and no one would eat the planet’s natural products. During a storm, lightning struck the generator plant, ignoring the lightning rods which Lerner had personally installed. The resulting fire swept half the camp, and when the fire-control team went for water, they found the nearest streams had been mysteriously diverted.
A second attempt was made to blow up the mountain without a name, but this one succeeded only in jarring loose a few freak landslides. Five men had been holding an unauthorized beer party on a nearby slope, and they were caught beneath falling rock. After that, the explosions men refused to plant charges on the mountain. And the Earth ofifce called again.
“But just exactly what is wrong, Morrison?” Mr. Shotwell asked.
“I tell you I don’t know,” Morrison said. After a moment, Shotwell asked softly, “Is there any possibility of sabotage?”
“I guess so,” Morrison said. “All this couldn’t be entirely natural. If someone wanted to, they could do a lot of damage – like misguiding a convoy, tampering with charges, lousing up the lightning rods —”
“Do you suspect anyone?”
“I have over five thousand men here,” Morrison said slowly.
“I know that. Now listen carefully. The board of directors has agreed to grant you extraordinary powers in this emergency. You can do anything you like to get the job done. Lock up half the camp, if you wish. Blow the natives out of the hills, if you think that might help. Take any and all measures. No legal responsibility will devolve upon you. We’re even prepared to pay a sizable bonus. But the job must be completed.”
“I know,” Morrison said.
“Yes, but you don’t know how important Work Order 35 is. In strictest confidence, the company has received a number of setbacks elsewhere. There have been loss and damage suits, Acts of God uncovered by our insurance. We’ve sunk too much in this planet to abandon it. You simply must carry it off.”
“I’ll do my best,” Morrison said, and signed off. That afternoon there was an explosion in the fuel dump.
Ten thousand gallons of D-12 were destroyed, and the fuel-dump guard was killed.
“You were pretty lucky,” Morrison said, staring somberly at Lerner.
“I’ll say,” Lerner said, his face still gray and sweat-stained. Quickly he poured himself a drink. “If I had walked through there ten minutes later, I would have been in the soup. That’s too close for comfort.”
“Pretty lucky,” Morrison said thoughtfully.
“Do you know,” Lerner said, “I think the ground was hot when I walked past the dump? It didn’t strike me until now. Could there be some sort of volcanic activity under the surface?”
“No,” Morrison said. “Our geologists have charted every inch of this area. We’re perched on solid granite.”
“Hmm,” Lerner said. “Morrie, I believe you should wipe out the natives.”
“Why do that?”
“They’re the only really uncontrolled factor. Everyone in the camp is watching everyone else. It must be the natives! Psi ability has been proved, you know, and it’s been shown more prevalent in primitives.”
Morrison nodded. “Then you would say that the explosion was caused by poltergeist activity?”
Lerner frowned, watching Morrison’s face. “Why not? It’s worth looking into.”
“And if they can polter,” Morrison went on, “they can do anything else, can’t they? Direct an explosion, lead a convoy astray —[6]”
“I suppose they can, granting the hypothesis.”
“Then what are they fooling around for?” Morrison asked. “If they can do all that, they could blow us off this planet without any trouble.”
“They might have certain limitations,” Lerner said.
“Nuts. Too complicated a theory. It’s much simpler to assume that someone here doesn’t want the job completed. Maybe he’s been offered a million dollars by a rival company. Maybe he’s a crank. But he’d have to be someone who gets around. Someone who checks blast patterns, charts courses, directs work parties —”
“Now just a minute! If you’re implying —”
“I’m not implying a thing,” Morrison said. “And if I’m doing you an injustice, I’m sorry.” He stepped outside the tent and called two workmen. “Lock him up somewhere, and make sure he stays locked up.”
“You’re exceeding your authority,” Lerner said.
“Sure.”
“And you’re wrong. You’re wrong about me, Morrie.”
“In that case, I’m sorry.” He motioned to the men, and they led Lerner out.
Two days later the avalanches began. The geologists didn’t know why. They theorized that repeated demolition might have caused deep flaws in the bedrock, the flaws expanded, and – well, it was anybody’s guess.
Morrison tried grimly to push the work ahead, but the men were beginning to get out of hand. Some of them were babbling about flying objects, fiery hands in the sky, talking animals and sentient machines. They drew a lot of listeners. It was unsafe to walk around the camp after dark. Self-appointed guards shot at anything that moved, and quite a number of things that didn’t.
Morrison was not particularly surprised when, late one night, he found the work camp deserted. He had expected the men to make a move. He sat back in his tent and waited.
After a while Rivera came in and sat down. “Gonna be some trouble,” he said, lighting a cigarette.
“Whose trouble?”
“The natives. The boys are going up to that village.”
Morrison nodded. “What started them?”
Rivera leaned back and exhaled smoke. “You know this crazy Charlie? The guy who’s always praying? Well, he swore he saw one of those natives standing beside his tent. He said the native said, ‘You die, all of you Earthmen die.’ And then the native disappeared.”
“In a cloud of smoke?” Morrison asked.
“Yeah,” Rivera said, grinning. “I think there was a cloud of smoke in it.”
Morrison remembered the man. A perfect hysteric type. A classic case, whose devil spoke conveniently in his own language, and from somewhere near enough to be destroyed.
“Tell me,” Morrison asked, “are they going up there to destroy witches? Or psi supermen?”
Rivera thought it over for a while, then said, “Well, Mr. Morrison, I’d say they don’t much care.”
In the distance they heard a loud, reverberating boom.
“Did they take explosives?” Morrison asked.
“Don’t know. I suppose they did.”
It was ridiculous, he thought. Pure mob behavior. Dengue would grin and say: When in doubt, always kill the shadows. Can’t tell what they’re up to.
But Morrison found that he was glad his men had made the move. Latent psi powers… You could never tell.
Half an hour later, the first men straggled in, walking slowly, not talking to each other.
“Well?” Morrison asked. “Did you get them all?”
“No sir,” a man said. “We didn’t even get near them.”
“What happened?” Morrison asked, feeling a touch of panic.
More of his men arrived. They stood silently, not looking at each other.
“What happened?” Morrison shouted.
“We
lead a convoy astray – сбить конвой с пути