D A Novel (George Right) - By George Right Page 0,148

time we already knew that bloody inscriptions like ‘don't go there!’ didn't work. And when you saw this–you after all did not go further? And I wouldn't go... no, I really hoped that the pain would destroy my mind, and for me all would finish, but if not... as it in fact happened..."

"And how much time is left till the end of the process?"

Linda looked at the screen again.

"It is finished. All protoplasm is infected."

"So, we have lost a wilderness of time while you created the virus anew!" Victor again flew into a rage. "We could finish that all a way back!"

"Don't shout. We are almost there. Let's go."

They didn't need to return to the corridor. It was possible to pass to the synthesizer tank directly from the control post. After descending a short low-sloped stairway and passing a hanger, on which protective suits once hung (Where could they be now? On which of still not found corpses?), the astronauts found themselves before one more door covered by outgrowths. Under the outgrowths it was still possible to discern a sign of biological danger. That certainly couldn't stop them anymore. In principle, behind each door there should be a leakproof airlock, but how then had all this living muck gotten outside? Was it thanks to the paradoxical properties of dark matter, or had they let it out themselves? Linda put her hand again on the scanner and they, having passed the airlock, went on to a balcony surrounding from within the large round premise which they already saw on the screen. At a closer look the life cradle made an even more repellent impression than on the monitor. Viscous bubbles were slowly overflowing and loudly burst two meters below their feet. In the air there was a dense heavy smell of some rotten concoction. Now Victor understood what these bubbles meant: Hydrogen was evolving–odorless by itself, of course.

"Well now," Adamson inquired, "how will we set it on fire?"

"Oh," Linda was confused, "actually I has absolutely forgotten about that. We had electrolighters but where are they now?"

"I suspect, overboard."

"And here," she inspected the walls, "there are no wires which we could reach."

"If only this crap were metal!" Victor punched a balcony handrail. "There would be a chance to strike a spark. But there is only plastic around."

"Chemically inert and fireproof," Linda gloomy nodded. Then she suddenly gazed on the first pilot. "Wait. I have an idea. I will bring it now."

With these words she ran out to the door, leaving Victor to grasp a round handrail in powerless anxiety. What an idea? The circle of the progress had been closed. On board the most advanced achievement of human science there is the same problem as in a stone age cave: the problem of making fire. Only here it is necessary not to survive, but to die. And to do it is much more difficult: Things at the hand of an ancient savage were not made according to the rules of maximal safety which excluded any casual spark. But let her come back and bring anything! He cannot bear this despair any more! A little more and he will jump into this shit gurgling below, even knowing that it won't help him, but instead would only restart everything from the beginning.

When at last, panting, Linda ran back, Adamson didn't even notice her. He desolately whined, reeling in place, with gritted teeth and closed eyes. She had to call him twice to draw his attention.

"Brought it?" he asked greedily.

"Here."

She stretched out a comb toward him. A completely ordinary comb, without any high-tech frills, once scornfully left by him in a pocket of her overalls.

"What the hell is that?"

"Brush your hair."

"Why the deuce?"

"I have too few hair left. And yours are almost undamaged. They should suffice."

"А-аh," he understood at last, taking the comb. "Electrostatics?"

"Exactly."

He began to furiously tear at his elven locks with the comb. Probably, he thought, no schoolboy before a first date had ever preened his feathers with such a frenzy. What was his first date? Did it happen at all or had he been only interested in science? Obviously there were still too many blocked in his memories. But this is not important now.

"Victor."

He stopped. His hair crackled slightly. Linda looked uncertainly into his eyes.

"We in fact were... not just colleagues? Between us... there was something?"

"I do not remember." He honestly shook his head. "If it were... the despair has erased it all. I can't remember even how you look actually. That