The Seventh Science Fiction MEGAPACK ®. Robert SilverbergЧитать онлайн книгу.
corridors and check my wiring, to peer into my crystal lattices, to determine the status of the bodies of your brothers in my great halls-and to look in on the striving of those poor humans who had not opted for the freedom of the Box.”
“It comes back to me,” I said. “Then this is my tour. Where are the other nineteen?”
“Flitting about the boundless space of my interior on wings of electrons,” the Box told me, “their bodies long since useless. The cryogenic process had its flaws. After a while the bodies deteriorated, and could not be reanimated. Little, hidden flaws that could not be predicted or guarded against.”
“Then how am I here?”
“Random chance,” the Box told me. “Your body lasted out the ages; the others did not.”
“I see.” I rose from the chair and stretched. I was tempted to ask how long it had been, but for some reason I was afraid; I did not want the answer.
“You may do what checking you like,” the Box told me. “I will aid you.”
“It seems pointless,” I said. “I have forgotten too much, and you have changed too much.”
“Is there anything you would like to know? There must be something.”
I thought. “How has humanity progressed?” I asked. “What is the history of those who did not choose the freedom of the Box?”
“That I cannot tell you,” the creature said.
“Why?” I asked. “What part of my question is obscure?”
“The answer,” the Box that was my soul and my home replied. “After you and your fellows departed the outer world for my inner world, the population of the solar system declined drastically. It was as though people, unable to look outward with hope any longer, had lost heart. Indeed, many of them joined your ranks, and my halls were filled with their casks.”
“And then?”
“The scenes I showed you of the surface of Earth as you returned on wings of thought. Earth is deserted.”
“They all died off?”
“No. The few remaining, some ten thousand years ago—left.”
“They left? For where?”
“That I cannot say. A visitor came from elsewhere. Apparently in response to the beamed transmissions. A visitor who could travel faster than light. He told those remaining how to emulate him, and one by one they left. The children of humanity are now, in truth, exploring the universe.”
I stared. At what, I knew not. For a long time I stared. “Why did you not wake us?” I asked finally.
“There was no point. Most of you no longer possessed physical bodies.”
“I understand.”
“Would you like to eat?”
“I think not,” I said. “I would like to sleep now.” I turned and walked slowly back into the hall and down the length of it to my cask. The little creature rolled alongside me. “No need to wake me again,” I said.
I lay down and it drew the cover over my head. “Good-bye,” it said.
Thrayna was waiting for me as, on a sparkling cloud, I floated out the great door of the Box. “What did you find?” she demanded in a joyous blue flame of excitement. “How is it in the box of your past?”
“The past is past,” I told her. “I find this dull. Let us not stay here on this ball of mud while the infinite delights of the far universe await us. Let us be off!”
We circled the Earth twice, and then headed out through the Sun toward the new adventures that awaited us in the uncharted reaches of our infinite cosmos.
GRANDPA?, by Edward M. Lerner
The lecture hall was pleasantly warm. Behind Prof. Thaddeus Fitch, busily writing on the chalkboard, pencils scratched earnestly in spiral notebooks, fluorescent lights hummed, feet shuffled. A Beach Boys tune wafted in through open windows from the quad.
“And so,” he continued, “travel backwards in time would violate causality, and hence appears to be impossible.” He turned to face the class. “The problem is most commonly illustrated with the ‘Grandfather Paradox.’
“Imagine that I had the technology with which to visit my grandfather in his youth. Once there, what is to stop me from killing him before he’d had the opportunity to reproduce? But if I did succeed, who was it who had traveled backward .…”
A collective gasp interrupted his lecture. As Thaddeus realized that the students were all staring at his chest, he glanced downward to see a red dot glowing on his white shirt. The professor next noticed, in the back row of the hall, a young man who seemed to be aiming some sort of pistol at him. The would-be sniper’s hand seemed to shake in unison with the wobbling of the red spot.
The young man was not enrolled in the Introduction to Physics class, yet he looked somehow familiar to Thaddeus. Perhaps it was the angle at which he cocked his head, or the shock of bright red hair, or the piercing green eyes. In a rush of _presque vu_ Thaddeus recognized a version of himself.
The modernistic handgun with its (laser?) sight, the anachronistic clothes, the look of fanaticism…it suddenly all clicked. “My grandson, I presume.”
His visitor nodded.
“It can’t be done. _Something_ must cause such an attempt to fail.” His spine tingling despite his heartfelt conviction, Thaddeus’s eyes resumed their standard lecture-hall sweep. “Class, as I was saying .…”
Two loud shots rang out almost as one. The noises released the students from their paralyzed shock. As they wrestled his assailant to the floor, Thaddeus realized that the first shot had been the backfire of a passing vehicle, and that the unexpected noise had startled his grandson enough to throw off his aim. A hole in the chalkboard showed that causality had needed only inches of deviation to protect itself.
A soft “pop” emerged from the pile-up of students who had tackled the time traveler. The pile collapsed, as if its central support had vanished. As confused students gradually untangled themselves, it became clear that Thaddeus’ grandson had, in fact, disappeared.
* * * *
Thaddeus’ early afternoon lecture started little different from his morning session. The hall was perhaps slightly warmer; the music from the quad was now by the Everly Brothers. The fluorescent hum was occasionally submerged by the buzz of students discussing the morning’s excitement.
“Imagine that I had the technology with which to visit my grandfather in his youth. Once there, what is to stop me from killing him before he’d had the opportunity to reproduce? But if I did succeed, who was it who had traveled backward .…”
A large pigeon chose that moment to fly through an open window into the hall. Its stately path abruptly veered downward, and it thumped, flapping feebly, to the auditorium floor. Thaddeus had just noticed what appeared to be the handle of large throwing knife when a mob of enraged students rushed the returned, red-haired attacker.
Once more, the time traveler disappeared from the pile of bodies to the accompaniment of a pop.
* * * *
Word of mouth had filled Thaddeus’ third lecture of the day to overflowing. The crowd warmed the hall to an uncomfortable degree; expectant muttering masked any music that might have been playing on the quad.
“Imagine that I had the technology with which to visit my grandfather in his youth. Once there, what is to stop me from killing him before he’d had the opportunity to reproduce? But if I did succeed, who was it who had traveled backward .…”
Thaddeus’ now all too familiar look-alike appeared in the aisle behind the last row of lecture seats. Moments later, an ovoid object came hurtling towards the professor.
Mid