Greg Bear - Eon

VIP免费

2024-12-23 0 0 894.27KB 504 页 5.9玖币

侵权投诉

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt

Eon

By: Greg Bear

Synopsis:

When an enormous asteroid enters the Earth's orbit, the remains of a

vanished human civilization are discovered within that reveal the

asteroid's futuristic origins and predict a catastrophic imminent Earth

war.

Also by Greg Bear in Vista paperback TANGENTS BLOOD MUSIC Soon to be

available THE FORGE OF GOD GREG BEAR VISTA

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt (1 of 504) [1/17/03 7:20:20 PM]

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt

First published in the USA

1985 as a Bluejay International Edition by Bluejay Books Inc New York

First published in Great Britain 1986

by Victor Gollancz Ltd This Vista edition published 1998

Vista is an imprint of the Cassell Group Wellington House, 125

reCord for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 0 575 60266 X Printed and bound in Great Britain by Caledonian

part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form

or by any means, eleCtronic or meChanical including photocopying,

recording or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior

permission in writing from the publishers.

This book is sold subjeCt to the condition that it shall not, by way of

trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated

without the publisher's prior consent in any other form of binding or

cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar

condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent

purchaser.

For Poul and Karen with much appreciation and love

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt (2 of 504) [1/17/03 7:20:20 PM]

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt

Prolog: Four Beginnings One Christmas Eve 2000 New York City " It's

going into a wide elliptical Earth orbit," Judith Hoff-man said.

"Perigee about ten thousand kilometers, apogee about five hundred

thousand. It'll make a loop around the moon every third orbit." She

pulled back from the video screen to let Garry Lanier have a look from

where he sat on the edge of her desk. For the time being, the Stone

still resembled a baked potato, with no meaningful detail.

Outside the door to her office, the noise of the party was a distant

reminder of ignored social obligations. She had brought him into the

office just a few minutes before.

"That must be an incredible fluke."

"It's not a fluke," Hoffman said.

Tall, with close-cut dense, black hair, Lanier resembled a pale-skinned

Amerindian, though he had no Indian blood.

Hoffman found his eyes particularly reassuring--gently scrutinizing,

the eyes of a man used to seeing across great distances.

She did not put her trust in people on the basis of looks, however.

Hoffman had taken to Lanier because he had taught her somethingSome had

called him bloodless, but Hoffman knew better. The man was simply

competent, calm and observant.

He had a kind of blindness to people's foibles that made him peculiarly

effective as a manager. He seldom seemed to recognize petty insults,

bitchiness or backbiting. He saw people only in terms of their

effectiveness or lack of it, at least as far as his public reactions

showed; he cut through their surface dross to find the true coin

beneath. She had learned some interesting things about several people

by observing

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt (3 of 504) [1/17/03 7:20:20 PM]

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt

their reactions to Lanier. And she had adapted her own

style,.

picking up on his finesse.

Lanier had never been in Hoffman's at-home work area befores and now,

in the video's cool light, he inspected the shelves of memory blocks,

the broad, empty desk with its basic secretary's chair, the compact

word processor beneath the video.

Like most of the party-goers, he was a little in awe of Hoffman.

On the Hill, she was called the Advisor. She had acted in official and

unofficial capacities as a science expert for three presidents. Her

video programs reviving and re-exploring science had been popular in

the late 1990s, in a world just recovering from the shock of the Little

Death. She had served on the board of directors of both the Jet

Propulsion Laboratory and now ISCCOM--the International Space

Cooperation Committee. Though she could not disguise her solid build,

her taste in clothes was immaculate. There was a conscious limit to

her style, however; her, fingernails were short and unpainted,

well-manicured but not elegant, and she wore little makeup. She

allowed her brunette hair to find its own shape with a minimum of

interference; it tended to make a nimbus of fine curls around her

head.

"You must be on the Drake Hookup," Lanier said.

"I am, but this is a Deep Space Tracking picture. The Drale is still

locked on the Perseus Gemstar."

"They won't turn it on the Stone?"

She shook her head, grinning wolfishly. "Feisty old bastards are on a

tight schedule--won't turn it around even for a look at the biggest

event of the twenty-first century."

Lanier raised an eyebrow. The Stone, as far as he knew, was just an

asteroid. The oblong chunk wasn't going to hit the earth, but if it

was going to orbit, it would be in perfect position for scientific

probes. That was interesting, but hardly worthy of so much

enthusiasm.

"Twenty-One isn't until next month," he reminded her.

"And that's when we'll be getting busy." She turned toward him and

folded her arms. "Garry, we've been working together for some time

now. I trust you a lot."

He felt a tightening at the base of his spine. She had seemed tense

all evening. He had dismissed the fidgeting as none of his business.

Now she was making it his business.

"What do you know about the Stone?" she asked.

He thought a moment before answering. "DST located it eight months

ago. It's about three hundred kilometers long, a hundred kilometers

across at midsection. Medium albedo, probably a silicate body with a

nickel-iron core. It had a kind of halo around it when first spotted,

but that's dissipated, That made a few scientists speculate it was an

exceptionally large old comet nucleus. Some conflicting reports on low

density revived the old Shklovskii Mars-moon speculation."

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt (4 of 504) [1/17/03 7:20:20 PM]

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt

"Where did you hear the density reports?"

"I don't remember."

"That reassures me a little bit. If you haven't heard much more than

that, probably no one else has, either. DST had a leak, we've plugged

it now."

Lanier had entered her circle while working as a public relations

manager for AT&T Orbicom Services. Before being employed by Orbicom,

he had spent six years in the Navy, first as a fighter pilot, then

flying high-altitude tankers. He had flown the famous Charlie Baker

Delta route over Florida, Cuba and Bermuda during the Little Death,

refueling the planes of the Atlantic Watch whose vigilance had played

such a crucial role in limiting thee war.

After the armistice, he had received an OK from the Navy to take his

expertise in aerospace engineering over to Orbi-corn, which was tuning

up its world-wide civilian Mononet.

There had been a few calls at first to Orbicom headquarters in Menlo

Park, California, then requests for help on position papers, then an

abrupt and unexpected transfer to the Orbi-eom building in Washington,

which he later learned had been engineered by Homan. There was no

question of romance --how often had he quelled that rumor?--but their

ability to work together was remarkable in a Washington atmosphere of

perpetual partisan bickering and funding squabbles.

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt (5 of 504) [1/17/03 7:20:20 PM]

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt

"Why the secrecy?" he asked.

"DST has been ordered to mask all data given to the community."

By which she meant the scientific community.

"Why in hell should they do that? Government's relation with the

community has been awful the last few years. This certainly won't

help."

"Yes, but I concur this time."

Another chill. Hoffman was very dedicated to the community.

"If there's a blanket over everything, how do you know?"

Lanier asked.

"Connections through ISCCOM. I've been put on oversight by the

President."

"Jesus."

"So while our friends are partying out there, I need to know if I can

rely on you."

"Judith, I'm just a second-rank PR type."

"Bullshit. Orbicom thinks you're the best personnel coordinator they

have. I had to wrestle Parker for three months to get you transferred

to Washington.

You were lined up for a promotion, know that?"

Truthfully, he had hoped to avoid another promotion. He felt he was

getting away from the real work, higher and higher up the tower of

power. "And you got me transferred, instead?"

"Pulled enough strings to look like the puppet master I'm supposed to

be. I may need you. You know I don't pick candidates unless I'm sure

they'll yank my ass out of the fire later."

He nodded. To be part of Hoffnum's circle was to be groomed for

importance. Until now, he had tried to overlook that as a truism.

"Do you remember the supernova sighted about the same time as the

Stone?"

Lanier nodded; it had made a brief splash in the journals, and he had

been too busy to fred that low-profile coverage odd.

"It wasn't a supernova. Just as bright, but it didn't match any of the

requirements. In the first place, it was first recorded by DST as an

infrared object just outside the solar system.

Within two days, the flare became visible, and DST detected radiation

of frequencies associated with every atomic transition.

The flare temperature started at a million degrees Kelvin and peaked at

just over one billion degrees. By that time nuclear explosion

detectors on satellites-the new GPS superVelawere picking up thermally

excited gamma rays from nuclear U'ansitions. It was clearly visi51e in

the night sky, so DST had to make up a cover story, and that was the

discovery of a supernova by space defense installations. But they

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt (6 of 504) [1/17/03 7:20:20 PM]

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt

didn't know what they had." 'And?"

"The display went out, everything got quiet and then a visual sighting

was made in the same portion of the sky. It was the Stone.

By that time, everybody knew they weren't dealing with a simple

asteroid." The video pictures flickered and a chime sounded.

"Well, here it is. Joint Space Command has taken over the Drake and

rotated it."

The Drake was the most powerful orbiting optical telescope.

There were bigger instruments being built on lunar farside, but none

yet in operation matched the Drake. It had no Defense Department

connection. Joint Space Command legally had no jurisdiction---except

in time of national security crisis.

The Stone appeared on the screen greatly enlarged and cradled in

numbers and se4ence data graphs. Much more detail was evident big

crater'at one end of the oblong, smaller craters all over, a peculiar

band running latitudinally.

"It still looks like an asteroid," Lanier said, his voice lacking

conviction.

"Indeed," Hoffman said. "We know the type. A very large

mesosiderite.

We know the composition. But it's missing about forty percent of its

mass. DST confirmed that this morning. That chunk's profile through

the center resembles a geode. C.:odes don't occur in space, arry. The

President has already accepted my reconunendation that we organize an

investigation. That was before the elections, but I think we can $

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt (7 of 504) [1/17/03 7:20:20 PM]

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt

push it with the new administration--cracker-barrel mentality or

not.

Just as a precaution, we're scheduling six orbital transfer vehicle

flights before the end of February. And I'm laying my bets down

early.

I think we're going to need a science team, and I'd like you to

coordinate for me. I'm sure we can arrange something with Orbicom."

"But why the secrecy?"

"Why, Garry, I'm surprised." She smiled warmly at him.

"When the aliens arrive, the government always goes in for secrecy."

Two/ August, 2001 Podlipki Airfield, near Moscow "Major Mirsky, you are

not concentrating on your task."

"My suit is leaking, Colonel Mayakovsky."

"That is irrelevant. You can stay in the tank for another fifteen or

twenty minutes."

"Yes, Colonel."

"Now pay attention. You must complete this maneuver."

Mirsky blinked sweat from his eyes and strained to see the

American-style docking hatch clearly. The water was already up to his

knees in the pressure suit; he could feel the stream entering through

the seam at his hip. There was no way of telling how copious the flow

was; he hoped Mayakovsky knew.

He had been instructed to wedge the bent metal bar into the two sensor

ports. To get the necessary traction to jam it home, he hooked his

ankle and fight wrist to the circular lip of the hatch, using the

I-shaped attachments on his boots and glove.

Then with his left hand --(how they had tried to discourage him in

school in Kiev, now gone, all of his teachers and their

nineteenth-century ideas; how they had tried to get him to use his

fight hand exclusively, until finally, in his late teens, an edict had

come down officially pardoning gauche children)-Mirsky slammed the

bar.

He unhooked his wrist and ankles and pushed back.

The water was up to his waist.

"Colonel--" "The hatch will pause before opening. Three minutes."

Mirsky bit his lip. He twisted his neck around within the helmet to

see how his teammates were doing. The five lined-up hatches were

mannedtwo men and Yefremova. Where was Orlov?

Therepushing his helmet back, Mirsky saw Orlov being hauled to the

surface of the tank, three wet-suited, scuba-equipped divers assisting

him to shadowy obscurity. The surface, the lovely surface, sweet air

and no water streaming in. He couldn't feel it now. The level was

above his hip.

The hatch began to move. He could hear the mechanism whining.

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt (8 of 504) [1/17/03 7:20:20 PM]

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt

Then it stopped, only one-third open.

"It's stuck," he said, stunned. He was reasonably sure the exercise

was supposed to be over as soon as he could enter the hatch, and the

hatch was supposed to be foolproof, it was supposed to open when

properly jimmiedAmerican word, American technology, reliable, no?

"Loosen it. Your bar is obviously not positioned properly."

"It is!" Mirsky insisted.

"Major--" "Yes, yes!" He jammed the heel of his heavily gloved hand

against the bar again. He hadn't hooked his ankles and right wrist; he

floated away from the hatch and had to waste precious seconds reeling

in his line and dragging himself back.

Hook. Pound. Unhook. No result.

Water up to his chest, cold, slopping past his neck seal into his

helmet when his angle shifted. He swallowed some accidentally and

choked. There. Colonel will think i'm drowning and show mercy!

"Jiggle it," the colonel suggested.

His gloves were almost too thick to reach into the groove where the bar

now resided, held in place by the partly open

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt (9 of 504) [1/17/03 7:20:20 PM]

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt

hatch. He pressed, his

sleeves filled with cold and his fingers numbing. He pressed again.

His suit was no longer neutrally buoyant. He was starting to sink.

The bottom of the tank was thirty meters below, and all three of the

divers had accompanied Orlov. There was nobody between him and

drowning if he could not make it to the simulated Soviet hatch on his

own power. And if he did not leave now-But he didn't dare. He had

wanted the stars since adolescence, and panicking now would put them

out of his reach forever. He screamed in his helmet and slammed his

glove tip into the groove, causing a sharp freezing jolt of pain to go

up his arm as his fingers crammed into the inner fabric and Casing.

The hatch began to move again.

"Just jammed," the colonel said.

'i'm drowning, goddammit!" Mirsky shouted. He hooked his wrists onto

the lip of the ring and sputtei-ed water from his mouth. The suit's

air entered and exited just above the neck ring of his helmet, and he

could already hear the suck and gurgle.

Floodlights came on around the tank. The hatches were suspended in

watery noon brightness. He felt hands under his arms and around his

legs and saw the three other cosmonaut trainees vaguely from the

corners of his foggy faceplate. They kicked away from the hatch

complex and hauled him higher, higher, to his grandmother's archaic and

welcome heaven.

They sat at their special table away from the two hundred other

recruits and were served fine thick sausages with their kasha. The

beer was cold and plentiful, if sour and watery, and there were oranges

and carrots and cabbage cores. And for dessert, a big steel bowl of

fresh-made, rich vanilla ice cream, unavailable for months while they

trained, was set before them by a smiling mess officer.

When dinner was over, Yefremova and Mirsky strolled across the grounds

of the Cosmonaut Instructional Center with its hideous black steel

water tank half-buried in the ground.

Yefremova came from Moscow and had a fine eastern slant to her eyes;

Mirsky, from Kiev, could as easily have been German as Russian.

Still, coming from Kiev had its advantages.

A man without a city: this was something Russians could sympathize

with, feel sad about.

They spoke very little. They thought they were in love but that was

irrelevant. Yefremova was one of fourteen women in the Space Shock

Troops program. Her femaleness kept her even busier than the men. She

had trained as a pilot in the Air Defense Forces before that, flying Tu

22M training bombers and old Sukhoi fighters. He had come into the

military after graduating from an aerospace engineering school. His

deferment had been most fortunate; instead of being inducted into the

army at eighteen, he had qualified for a New Reindustrialization

scholarship.

In the engineering school, he had gained excellent marks in political

science and leadership, and they had earmarked him immediately for the

difficult position of Zampolit in a fighter squadron in East Germany,

but then had transfen'ed him to Space Defense Forces, which had only

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txt (10 of 504) [1/17/03 7:20:20 PM]

文档加载中……请稍候！
如果长时间未打开，您也可以点击刷新试试。

下载文档到电脑，查找使用更方便

5.9 玖币 0人已下载

立即下载 VIP免费下载

摘要：

file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Eon.txtEonBy:GregBearSynopsis:WhenanenormousasteroidenterstheEarth'sorbit,theremainsofavanishedhumancivilizationarediscoveredwithinthatrevealtheasteroid'sfuturisticoriginsandpredictacatastrophicimminentEarthwar.AlsobyGregBearinVistapaperbackTANGENTSBLOOD...

展开>> 收起<<

Greg Bear - Eon.pdf

共504页,预览101页

还剩页未读，继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

Greg Bear - Eon

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: