The Complete Short Stories: The 1950s. Brian Aldiss

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ poor fellow. The only thing they had in common were peculiar features. The operator had one eye and a ginger beard, and the planet – well …’ He rotated his claws in the famous Puss gesture of amazement.

      ‘Pogsmith is the only planet in a system of three giant suns, a red, a yellow and a blue one. It is smaller than Mercury and, containing no heavy metals, has an extremely low density. Yet during a period of its orbit it comes almost within Roche’s Limit of two of the suns. The wonder is that this fragile little world did not disintegrate eons ago! It only seems to survive this perilous part of its course by speeding up its axial revolution tremendously.

      ‘This we noted as we glided in for a landing. The amazing thing was that the planet held an atmosphere, a pungent mixture of neon and argon that we found stayed electrostatically attracted to the surface, due to the continual absorption through it of random and charged gamma particles which combined – ’ Noting the blank expression on Dusty’s face, the Director cleared both his throats and changed his tack.

      ‘There were no seas, but the ground was broken and mountainous. We found a plain near the equator and feathered down. The ship immediately rose again. The captain swore, touched the fore jets and set our tail firmly in the dust once more. The ship was immediately flung back into the air. We could not stay down! So we floated and chewed our nails. On other planets, the difficulty is always getting off them; yet here the situation was paradoxically reversed.

      ‘Everyone was completely baffled, until I came forward with the obvious solution. The planet’s mass was so low and its axial rotation so fast that centrifugal force had overcome gravity at the equator! Following my careful instructions, the captain moved to the north pole, and there we could land in the usual manner. An additional advantage was the lower temperature – only 160°. At the equator it had been about 245°.

      ‘I only tell you this to make the point that any life on such a world was bound to be eccentric.’

      ‘Oh quite, Director. Daisy dear, are you all right?’ Dusty Miller bent anxiously over his wife, who was fluttering her eyes.

      ‘Yes, fine, thank you. Don’t interrupt, dear. You were saying, sir?’

      ‘We climbed out, the five of us – in space suits, of course. It was eerie to a degree. The sky was nearly black, owing to the tenuous atmosphere, although there were a few very low grey clouds. The blue sun moved from about five to twenty degrees above the horizon, revolving so rapidly round the sky that it looked like an azure spiral. Every now and then, the red sun would appear, climb to zenith and sink again. Unfortunately, we were too far north to see the third sun; I remember feeling vaguely aggrieved about it at the time.

      ‘What a spectacle, though! We stood amazed. Both visible suns were at least fourteen times as big as a full moon on Earth and their shifting, blending shadow spun a kaleidoscope of stupendous colour. We cried our delight aloud, lifting up hands that had become unpredictable rainbows.

      ‘Pogsmith had no eye for beauty. He had, as I said, only one eye, and this was on the main chance. He disappeared over that low hill which is always near any spaceship about to encounter danger in all the science-fiction stories I have read. We heard his startled shout, and ran to see what was wrong. A hundred yards ahead of him was a torpedo. It was scampering towards him. It had legs. These changed to wheels, and the wheels to flappers.

      ‘Abruptly it stopped. It changed again – into something very like a terrestrial pig. That, we have found since, is its natural form. But under the fluctuating conditions that exist on its world it has developed protective and projective mimicry to an extraordinary degree.

      ‘“Come on,” Pogsmith bellowed. “Let’s capture it!”

      ‘I was naturally in favour of the idea. But Pogsmith acted first.

      ‘He flung himself on the creature. It was an unwise thing to do, and I should have behaved differently. Even as he moved, the amazing animal altered its form again. It grew boots, a ginger beard, a space suit. It turned, in fact, into an absolute double of Pogsmith.

      ‘They fought desperately together. We closed in upon them and pulled them apart – no easy matter for only four of us.

      ‘Then came a problem. Which of them was Pogsmith? Neither showed any inclination to turn into anything further. The pig, with a good deal of common sense, realised he was safe in his disguise.

      ‘Both cursed when we prodded them. Both vowed he was the only genuine and original Pogsmith. Both begged to be released.

      ‘So, at my suggestion, we released them, the idea being that the fake would immediately attempt to escape. But no, both stood tamely there and suggested a return to the ship. Evidently the pig’s curiosity had been roused.

      ‘We only resolved the deadlock by a brilliant idea of mine. Obviously the creature could only stimulate outward appearances; we had but to take blood slides to tell one Pogsmith from the other.

      ‘They both came meekly to the air lock. But there a strange thing happened. We stopped. We looked again at the twins. The Captain spoke first.

      ‘“Silly of us,” he said. “I know which the real Pogsmith is – it’s this one,” and he clapped his hand on the nearer of the two.

      ‘We all agreed vehemently with him. At the time it was suddenly more than obvious which was which. We pushed away the one we decided was the fake and hurried into the ship, shutting the lock behind us.

      ‘“Phew!” one of the crew said. “Lucky we suddenly saw sense. Let’s get away from here!”

      ‘And so we did. We were off and away at once, leaving the planet and its suns far behind. The incident had destroyed a lot of our self-confidence; for one thing, no doubt each of us had the thought: ‘Supposing more of the creatures had come up and joined in the fun? Should we ever have sorted ourselves out?’

      ‘Pogsmith, always taciturn, was more silent than ever. We did not like to remind him of his unpleasant experience, but finally I asked: “Are you feeling yourself again, Pogsmith?”

      ‘For reply, he winked his one eye at me and slowly – turned into a pig!

      ‘We saw it all then. We had been tricked by some form of mass-hypnotism into leaving the real radio op. behind. By then we were three days spaceborne, and poor old Pogsmith had air enough for, at a maximum, thirty-six hours. What could we do? As a memorial to our late friend, we christened the planet Pogsmith, and kept heading for home.

      ‘The crew were not only furious with the creature, they were frightened of it, and its power. They voted to scoot it out of the airlock at once. But I spoke up in the cause of science, and explained what a valuable zoological discovery we had made. After much argument, the masquerader’s life was saved, and we brought it here, to the zoo.’

      There was a short silence in the dome.

      ‘A very extraordinary tale indeed!’ Dusty Miller exclaimed.

      ‘The truth is frequently extraordinary,’ the Director said, with emphasis.

      ‘Do you reckon he’s pulling our legs?’ Daisy whispered to her husband.

      ‘I don’t know.’

      They turned and stared solemnly into the arena. Pogsmith had resumed its natural form. It was decidedly porcine, although its face bore an expression of almost classical serenity seldom noticeable СКАЧАТЬ