Larry Niven & Jerry Pournelle - Lucifer ' s Hammer

VIP免费

2024-12-05 0 0 1.06MB 385 页 5.9玖币

侵权投诉

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt

By Larry Niven

Published by Del Rey Books:

A GIFT FROM EARTH

WORLD OF PTAVVS

NEUTRON STAR

THE SHAPE OF SPACE

ALL THE MYRIAD WAYS

THE FLYING SORCERERS

PROTECTOR

THE FLIGHT OF THE HORSE

A HOLE IN SPACE

TALES OF KNOWN SPACE: The Universe of Larry Niven

THE LONG ARM OF GIL HAMILTON

A WORLD OUT OF TIME

CONVERGENT SERIES (TT)

RINGWORLD ENGINEERS

LIMITS THE INTEGRAL

TREES THE SMOKE RING

With Jerry Pournelle:

FOOTFALL

LUCIFER'S HAMMER

Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle

FAWCETT CREST ¥ NEW YORK

A Fawcett Crest Book

To Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin, the first men to walk on another world; to Michael Collins, who

waited; and to those who died trying, Gus Grissom, Roger Chaffee, Ed White, Georgi Dobrovolsky,

Viktor Patsayev, Nikolai Volkov, and all the others.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Excerpts from GIFFORD LECTURES, 1948 by Emil Brunner. Excerpt from a private speech by Robert

Heinlein. Reprinted by permission.

From "Pure, Sweet, Culture" by Frank Garparik. Copyright @ 1977 by Frank Garparik. Used with

permission of the author.

McGraw Hill Book Co.

From The Naked Ape by Desmond Morris. Copyright McGraw Hill 1967. Used with permission of McGraw

Hill Book Company.

Reprinted by permission of Doubleday & Company, Inc.

Excerpts from The Coming Dark Age by Roberto Vacca, translated from the Italian by Dr. J. S.

Doubleday & Company, Inc.

Wadsworth Publishing Co., Inc. Used with permission of Wadsworth Publishing Co., Inc.

Used with permission of University of Chicago Press.

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt (1 of 385) [1/14/03 8:19:03 PM]

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt

of Chilton Book Co.

of public performance for profit. Used by permission of the author and the author's agent, Kirby

McCauley.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

TIMOTHY HAMNER, amateur astronomer

ARTHUR CLAY JELLISON, United States Senator from California

MAUREEN JELLISON, his daughter

HARVEY RANDALL, Producer Director for NBS Television

MRS. LORETTA STEWART RANDALL

BARRY PRICE, Supervising Engineer, San Joaquin Nuclear Project

DOLORES MUNSON, Executive Secretary to Barry Price

EILEEN SUSAN HANCOCK, Assistant Manager for Corrigan's Plumbing Supplies of Burbank

LEONILLA ALEXANDROVNA MALIK, M.D., physician and kosmonaut

MARK CZESCU, biker

GORDON VANCE, Bank President and neighbor to Harvey Randall

ANDY RANDALL, Harvey Randall's son

CHARLIE BASCOMB, cameraman

MANUEL ARGUILEZ, sound technician

DR. CHARLES SHARPS, Planetary Scientist and Project Director, California Institute of Technology's

Jet Propulsion Laboratories

PENELOPE JOYCE WILSON, fashion designer

FRED LAUREN, convicted sex offender

COL. JOHN BAKER, USAF, astronaut

HARRY NEWCOMBE, letter carrier, US Postal Service

THE REVEREND HENRY ARMITAGE

DR. DAN FORRESTER, Member of technical staff, JPL

LT. COL. RICK DELANTY, USAF, astronaut

MRS. GLORIA DELANTY

BRIGADIER PIETER JAKOV, kosmonaut

FRANK STONER, biker

JOANNA MACPHERSON, Mark Czescu's roommate

COLLEEN DARCY, bank teller

GENERAL THOMAS BAMBRIDGE, USAF, Commander in Chief, Strategic Air Command

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt (2 of 385) [1/14/03 8:19:03 PM]

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt

JOHN KIM, Press Secretary to the Mayor Of Los Angeles

THE HONORABLE BENTLEY ALLEN, Mayor of Los Angeles

ERIC LARSEN, Patrolman, Burbank PD

JOE HARRIS, Investigator, Burbank PD

COMET WARDENS, a Southern California religious group

MAJOR BENNET ROSTEN, USAF, Minuteman Squadron Commander

MRS. MARIE VANCE, wife of Gordon Vance

HARRY STIMMS, automobile dealer in Tujunga, California

CORPORAL ROGER GILLINGS, Army

SERGEANT THOMAS HOOKER, Army

MARTY ROBBINS, Tim Hamner's assistant and caretaker

JASON GILLCUDDY, writer

HUGO BECK, owner of a commune in the foothills of the High Sierra

Prologue

Before the sun burned, before the planets formed, there were chaos and the comets.

Chaos was a local thickening in the interstellar medium. Its mass was great enough to attract

itself, to hold itself, and it thickened further. Eddies formed. Particles of dust and frozen gas

drifted together, and touched, and clung. Flakes formed, and then loose snowballs of frozen gases.

Over the ages a whirlpool pattern developed, a fifth of a light year across. The center contracted

further. Local eddies, whirling frantically near the center of the storm, collapsed to form

planets.

It formed as a cloud of snow, far from the whirlpool's axis. Ices joined the swarm, but slowly,

slowly, a few molecules at a time. Methane, ammonia, carbon dioxide; and sometimes denser objects

struck it and embedded themselves, so that it held rocks, and iron. Now it was a single stable

mass. Other ices formed, chemicals that could only be stable in the interstellar cold.

It was four miles across when the disaster came.

The end was sudden. In no more than fifty years, the wink of an eye in its lifetime, the

whirlpool's center collapsed. A new sun burned fearfully bright.

Myriads of comets flashed to vapor in that hellish flame Planets lost their atmospheres. A great

wind of light pressure stripped an the loose gas and dust from the inner system and hurled it at

the stars.

It hardly noticed. It was two hundred times as far from the sun as the newly formed planet

Neptune. The new sun was no more than an uncommonly bright star, gradually dimming now.

Down in the maelstrom there was frantic activity. Gases boiled out of the rocks of the inner

system. Complex chemicals developed in the seas of the third planet. Endless hurricanes boded

across and within the gas giant worlds. The inner worlds would never know calm.

The only real calm was at the edge of interstellar space, in the halo, where millions of thinly

spread comets, each as far from its nearest brother as Earth is from Mars, cruise forever through

the cold black vacuum. Here its endless quiet sleep could last for billions of years . . . but not

forever. Nothing lasts forever.

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt (3 of 385) [1/14/03 8:19:03 PM]

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt

THE ANVIL

Against boredom, even the gods themselves struggle in vain.

Nietzsche

January: The Portent

The bay trees in our country are all wither'd

And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven;

The pale faced moon looks bloody on the earth

And lean look'd prophets whisper fearful change.

These signs forerun the death or fall of kings.

William Shakespeare, Richard II

The blue Mercedes turned into the big circular drive of the Beverly Hills mansion at precisely

five after six. Julia Sutter was understandably startled. "Good God, George, it's Tim! And dead on

time."

George Sutter joined her at the window. That was Tim's car, yup. He grunted and turned back to the

bar. His wife's parties were always important events, so why, after weeks of careful engineering

and orchestration, was she terrified that no one would show up? The psychosis was so common there

ought to be a name for it.

Tim Hamner, though, and on time. That was strange. Tim's money was third generation. Old money, by

Los Angeles standards, and Tim had a lot of it. He only came to parties when he wanted to.

The Sutters' architect had been in love with concrete. There were square walls and square angles

for the house, and softly curving free form pools in the gardens outside; not unusual for Beverly

Hills, but startling to easterners. To their right was a traditional Monterey villa of white

stucco and red tile roofs, to the left a Norman chateau magically transplanted to California. The

Sutter place was set well back from the street so that it seemed divorced from the tall palms the

city fathers had decreed for this part of Beverly Hills. A great loop of drive ran up to the house

itself. On the porch stood eight parking attendants, agile young men in red jackets.

Hamner left the motor running and got out of the car. The "key left" reminder screamed at him.

Ordinarily Tim would have snarled a powerful curse upon Ralph Nader's hemorrhoids, but tonight he

never noticed. His eyes were dreamy; his hand patted at his coat pocket, then stole inside. The

parking attendant hesitated. People didn't usually tip until they were leaving. Hamner kept

walking, dreamy eyed, and the attendant drove away.

Hamner glanced back at the red coated young men, wondering if one or another might be interested

in astronomy. They were almost always from UCLA or Loyola University. Could be . . . Reluctantly

he decided against it and went inside, his hand straying from time to time to feel the telegram

crackle under his fingers.

The big double doors opened onto an enormous area that extended right through the house. Large

arches, rimmed by red brick, separated the entry from the living areas: a mere suggestion of walls

between rooms. The floor was continuous throughout: brown tile laid with bright mosaic patterns.

Of the two hundred and more guests expected, fewer than a dozen were clustered near the bar. Their

talk was bright and cheery, louder than necessary. They looked isolated in all that empty space,

all that expanse of tables with candles and patterned tablecloths. There were nearly as many

uniformed attendants as guests. Hamner noticed none of this. He'd grown up with it.

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt (4 of 385) [1/14/03 8:19:03 PM]

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt

Julia Sutter broke from the tiny group of guests and hurried to meet him. There was a tight look

around her eyes: Her face had been lifted, and was younger than her hands. She made a kissing

motion a fraction of an inch from Tim's cheek and said, "Timmy, I'm glad to see you!" Then she

noticed his radiant smile.

She drew back a little and her eyes narrowed. The note of mock concern in her voice covered real

worry. "My God, Timmy! What have you been smoking?"

Tim Hamner was tall and bony, with just a touch of paunch to break the smooth lines. His long face

was built for melancholy. His mother's family had owned a highly successful cemetery mortuary, and

it showed. Tonight, though, his face was cracked wide apart in a blazing smile, and there was a

strange light in his eyes. He said, "The Hamner Brown Comet!"

"Oh!" Julia stared. "What?" That didn't make sense. You don't smoke a comet. She tried to puzzle

it out while her eyes roved to her husbandÑwas he having a second drink already?Ñto the doorÑwhen

were the others coming? The invitations had been explicit. The important guests were coming

earlyÑweren't they?Ñand couldn't stay late, andÑ

She heard the low purr of a big car outside, and through the narrow windows framing the door saw

half a dozen people spilling out of a dark limousine. Tim would have to take care of himself. She

patted his arm and said, "That's nice, Timmy. Excuse me, please?" A hasty intimate smile and she

was gone.

If it bothered Hamner it didn't show. He ambled toward the bar. Behind him Julia went to welcome

her most important guest, Senator Jellison, with his entourage. He always brought everyone,

administrative assistants as well as family. Tim Hamner's smile was blazing when he reached the

bar.

"Good evening, Mr. Hamner."

"Good it is. Tonight I'm walking on pink clouds. Congratulate me, Rodrigo, they're going to name a

comet after me!"

Michael Rodriguez, laying out glasses behind the bar, missed a beat. "A comet?"

"Right. Hamner Brown Comet. It's coming, Rodrigo, you can see it, oh, around June, give or take a

few weeks." Hamner took out the telegram and opened it with a snap.

"We will not see it from Los Angeles," Rodriguez laughed. "What may I serve you tonight?"

"Scotch rocks. You could see it. It could be as big as Halley's Comet." Hamner took the drink and

looked about. There was a group around George Sutter. The knot of people drew Tim like a magnet.

He clutched the telegram in one hand and his drink in another, as Julia brought the new guests

over and introduced them.

Senator Arthur Clay Jellison was built something like a brick, muscular rather than overweight. He

was bulky, jovial and blessed with thick white hair. He was photogenic as hell, and half the

people in the country would have recognized him. His voice sounded exactly as it did on TV:

resonant, enveloping, so that everything he said took on a mysterious importance.

Maureen Jellison, the Senator's daughter, had long, dark red hair and pale clear skin and a beauty

that would have made Tim Hamner shy on any other night; but when Julia Sutter turned to him and

(finally!) said, "What was that about aÑ"

"Hamner Brown Comet" Tim waved the telegram. "Kitt Peak Observatory had confirmed my sighting!

It's a real comet, it's my comet, they're naming it after me!"

Maureen Jellison's eyebrows went up slightly. George Sutter drained his glass before asking the

obvious question. "Who's Brown?"

Hamner shrugged; his untasted drink slopped a little onto the carpet, and Julia frowned. "Nobody's

ever heard of him," Tim said. "But the International Astronomical Union says it was a simultaneous

sighting."

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt (5 of 385) [1/14/03 8:19:03 PM]

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt

"So what you own is half a comet," said George Sutter.

Tim laughed, quite genuinely. "The day you own half a comet, George, I'll buy all those bonds you

keep trying to sell me. And buy your drinks all night." He downed his scotch rocks in two

swallows.

When he looked up he'd lost his audience. George was headed back to the bar. Julia had Senator

Jellison's arm and was steering him toward new arrivals. The Senator's administrative assistants

followed in her wake.

"Half a comet is quite a lot," Maureen said. Tim Hamner turned to find her still there. "Tell me,

how do you see anything through the smog?"

She sounded interested. She looked interested. And she could have gone with her father. The scotch

was a warm trace in his throat and stomach. Tim began telling her about his mountain observatory,

not too many miles past Mount Wilson but far enough into the Angeles Mountains that the lights

from Pasadena didn't ruin the seeing. He kept food supplies there, and an assistant, and he'd

spent months of nights watching the sky, tracking known asteroids and the outer moons, letting his

eye and brain learn the territory, and forever watching for the dot of light that shouldn't be

there, the anomaly that would . . .

Maureen Jellison had a familiar glazed look in her eyes. He asked, "Hey, am I boring you?"

She was instantly apologetic. "No, I'm sorry, it was just a stray thought."

"I know I sometimes get carried away."

She smiled and shook her head; a wealth of deep red hair rippled and danced. "No, really. Dad's on

the Finance Subcommittee for Science and Astronautics. He loves pure science, and I caught the bug

from him. I was just. . . You're a man who knows what he wants, and you've found it. Not many can

say that." She was suddenly very serious.

Tim laughed, embarrassed; he was only just getting used to the fact. "What can I do for an

encore?"

"Yes, exactly. What do you do when you've walked on the moon, and then they cancel the space

program?"

"Why . . . I don't know. I've heard they sometimes have troubles. . . ."

"Don't worry about it," Maureen said. "You're on the moon now. Enjoy it."

The hot dry wind known as the Santa Ana blew across the Los Angeles hills, clearing the city of

smog. Lights glittered and danced in the early darkness. Harvey Randall, his wife, Loretta, beside

him, drove his green Toronado with the windows open, relishing the summer weather in January. When

they arrived at the Sutter place he turned the car over to the red jacketed attendant, and paused

while Loretta adjusted her smile before moving through the big front doors.

They found the usual mob scene for a Beverly Hills party. A hundred people were scattered among

the little tables, and another hundred in clumps; a mariachi group in one corner played gay

background music and the singer, deprived of his microphone, was still doing pretty well telling

everyone about the state of his corazon. They greeted their hostess and parted: Loretta found a

conversation, and Harvey located the bar by searching out the thickest cluster of people. He

collected two gin and tonics.

Bits of conversation ricocheted around him. "We didn't let him on the white rug, you see. So the

dog had the cat 'treed' in the middle of the rug and was pacing sentry duty around the

perimeter...."

". . . was this beautiful young chick one seat ahead of me on the plane. A real knockout, even if

all I could see was her hair and the back of her head. I was thinking of a way to meet her when

she looked back and said, 'Uncle Pete! What are you doing here?'"

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt (6 of 385) [1/14/03 8:19:04 PM]

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt

". . . man, it's helped a lot! When I call and say it's Commissioner Robbins, I get right through.

Haven't had a customer miss a good option since the Mayor appointed me."

They stuck in his mind, these bits and pieces of story. For Harvey Randall it was an occupational

hazard of the TV documentary business; he couldn't help listening. He didn't want to, really.

People fascinated him. He would have liked to follow up some of these glimpses into other minds.

He looked around for Loretta, but she was too short to stand out in this crowd. Instead he picked

out high piled hair of unconvincing orange red: Brenda Tey, who'd been talking to Loretta before

Harvey went to the bar. He made for that point, easing past shoals of elbows attached to drinks.

"Twenty billion bucks, and all we got was rocks! Those damn big rockets, billions of dollars

dropped into the drink. Why spend all that money out there when we could beÑ"

"Bullshit," said Harvey.

George Sutter turned in surprise. "Oh. Hello, Harv.... It'll be the same with the Shuttte. Just

the same. It's all money thrown down the drainÑ"

"That turns out not to be the case." The voice was clear, sweet and penetrating. It cut right

through George's manifesto, and it couldn't be ignored. George stopped in midsentence.

Harvey found a spectacular redhead in a green one shoulder party gown. Her eyes met his when he

looked at her, and he looked away first. He smiled and said, "Is that the same as bullshit?"

"Yes. But more tactful." She grinned at him, and Harvey let his own smile stay in place instead of

fading away. She turned to the attack. "Mr. Sutter, NASA didn't spend the Apollo money on

hardware. We bought research on how to build the hardware, and we've still got it. Knowledge can't

go into the drink. As for the Shuttle, that's the price to get out there where we can really learn

things, and not much of a price at that...."

A woman's breast and shoulder rubbed playfully against Harvey's arm. That had to be Loretta, and

it was. He handed her her drink. His own was half gone. When Loretta started to speak he gestured

her silent, a little more rudely than he usually did, and ignored her look of protest.

The redhead knew her stuff. If careful reason and logic could win arguments, she won. But she had

a lot more: She had every male's eye, and a slow southern drawl that made every word count, and a

voice so pure and musical that any interruption seemed stuttered or mumbled.

The unequal contest ended when George discovered that his drink was empty and, with visible

relief, broke for the bar.

Smiling triumph, the girl turned toward Harvey, and he nodded his congratulations.

"I'm Harvey Randall. My wife, Loretta."

"Maureen Jellison. Most pleased." She frowned for half a second. "I remember now. You were the

last U.S. newsman in Cambodia." She shook hands, formally, with Harvey and Loretta. "And wasn't

your newscopter shot down over there?"

"Twice," Loretta said proudly. "Harvey brought his Air Force pilot out. Fifty miles of enemy

lines."

Maureen nodded gravely. She was fifteen years younger than the Randalls, and seemed very self

possessed. "So now you're here. Are you natives?"

"I am," Harvey said. "Loretta's from DetroitÑ"

"Grosse Pointe," Loretta said automatically.

"Ñbut I was born in L.A." Harvey could never quite bring himself to tell Loretta's half truth for

her. "We're scarce, we natives."

"And what do they have you doing now?" Maureen asked.

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt (7 of 385) [1/14/03 8:19:04 PM]

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt

"Documentaries. News features, mostly," Harvey said.

"I know who you are," Loretta said in some awe. "I just met your father. Senator Jellison."

"That's right." Maureen looked thoughtful, then grinned broadly. "Say, if you do news features

there's somebody you ought to meet. Tim Hamner."

Harvey frowned. The name seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it. "Why?"

Loretta said, "Hamner? A young man with a frightening grin?" She giggled. "He's a teensy bit

drunk. He wouldn't let anyone else talk. At all. He owns half a comet."

"That's him," Maureen said. Her smile made Loretta feel part of a conspiracy.

"He also owns a lot of soap," Harvey said.

It was Maureen's turn to look blank.

"I just remembered," Harvey said. "He inherited the Kalva Soap Company."

"May be, but he's prouder of the comet," Maureen said. "I don't blame him. Dear old Dad could have

been President once, but he's never come close to discovering a comet." She scanned the room until

she spotted her target. "The tall man in the suit with white and maroon in it. You'll know him by

his smile. Get anywhere near him and he'll tell you all about it."

Harvey felt Loretta tugging at his arm, and reluctantly looked away from Maureen. When he looked

back someone else had snared her. He went to fetch another pair of drinks.

As always, Harvey Randall drank too much and wondered why he came to these parties. But he knew;

Loretta saw them as a way to participate in his life. She didn't enjoy his field trips. The one

attempt to take her on a hike with their son had been a disaster. When she went with him on

location she wanted to stay in the best hotels, and if she dutifully came to the small bars and

gathering places Harvey preferred, it was obvious that she was working hard to hide her

unhappiness.

But she was very much at home at parties like this one, and tonight's had been especially good.

She even managed a private conversation with Senator Jellison. Harvey left her with the Senator

and went to find more drinks. "Light on the gin, Rodriguez. Please."

The bartender smiled and mixed the drink without comment. Harvey stood with it. Tim Hamner was

alone at one of the little tables. He was looking at Harvey, but the eyes were dreamy; they saw

nothing. And that smile. Harvey made his way across the room and dropped into the other chair at

the table. "Mr. Hamner? Harvey Randall. Maureen Jellison said I should say 'Comet.'"

Hamner's face came alight. The grin broadened, if that were possible. He took a telegram out of

his pocket and waved it. "Right! The sighting was confirmed this afternoon. Hamner Brown Comet."

"You skipped a step."

"She didn't tell you anything? Well! I'm Tim Hamner. Astronomer. Well, not professional, but my

equipment's professional. And I work at itÑanyway. I'm an amateur astronomer. A week ago I found a

smear of light not far from Neptune. A dim smear. It didn't belong there. I kept looking at it,

and it moved. I studied it long enough to be sure, and then I reported it. It's a new comet. Kitt

Peak just confirmed it. The IAU is naming it after meÑand Brown."

For just that moment, envy flashed through Harvey Randall like a lightning strike. It was gone as

quickly; he made it go, shoving it into the bottom of his mind where he could pull it up and look

at it later. He was ashamed of it. But without that flash he would have asked a more tactful first

question. "Who's Brown?"

Hamner's face didn't change. "Gavin Brown is a kid in Centerville, Iowa. Ground his own mirror to

build his telescope. He reported the comet at the same time I did. The IAU rules it a simultaneous

sighting. If I hadn't waited to be certain . . ." Hamner shrugged and continued, "I called Brown

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt (8 of 385) [1/14/03 8:19:04 PM]

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt

this afternoon. Sent him a plane ticket, because I want to meet him. He didn't even want to come

until I promised to show him around the solar observatory at Mount Wilson. That's all he really

cares about! Sunspots! He found the comet by accident!"

"When will we see this comet? That is," Harvey backtracked, "will it be visible at all?"

"Much too early to ask. Wait a month. Watch the news."

"I'm not supposed to watch the news. I'm supposed to report the news," said Harvey. "And this

could be news. Tell me more."

Hamner was eager to do that. He rattled on, while Harvey nodded with a broadening grin. Beautiful!

You didn't have to know what all the words meant to know the equipment was expensive, and probably

photogenic to boot. Expensive and elaborate equipment, and the kid with a bent pin for a hook and

a willow stick for a rod had caught just as big a fish as the millionaire!

Millionaire. "Mr. Hamner, if this comet turns out to be worth a documentaryÑ"

"Well, it might. And the discovery would be. How amateur astronomers can be important . . ."

Hooked, by God! "What I was going to ask was, if we can make a documentary on the comet, would

Kalva Soap be interested in sponsoring it?"

The change in Hamner was subtle, but it was there. Harvey instantly revised his opinion of the

man. Hamner had a lot of experience with people after his money. He was an enthusiast, but hardly

a fool.

"Tell me, Mr. Randall, didn't you do that thing on the Alaskan glacier?"

"Harvey. Yes."

"It stunk."

"Sure did," Harvey agreed. "The sponsor insisted on control. And got it. And used it. I didn't

inherit control of a big company." And to hell with you, too, Mr. Timothy Comet Hamner.

"But I did. And this would be worth doing. You did the Hell's Gate Dam story too, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I liked that one."

"So did I."

"Good." Hamner nodded several times. "Look, this could be worth sponsoring. Even if the comet

never becomes visible, and I think it will. Lord knows they spend enough of the advertising budget

sponsoring crap that nobody wants to watch. Might as well tell a story worth telling. Harvey, you

need a refill."

They went to the bar. The party was thinning out fast. The Jellisons were just leaving, but

Loretta had found another conversation. Harvey recognized a city councilman who'd been after

Harvey's station to do a show on a park that was his current goal. He probably thought Loretta

would influence HarveyÑwhich was correctÑand that Harvey had influence over what the network and

its Los Angeles station didÑ which was a laugh.

Rodriguez was busy for the moment and they stood at the bar. "There's all kinds of excellent new

equipment for studying comets," Hamner said. "Including a big orbital telescope only used once,

for Kahoutek. Scientists all over the world will want to know how comets differ, how Kahoutek was

different from Hamner Brown. Lot of scientists right here. Cal Tech, and the planetary astronomers

at JPL. They'll all want to know more about Hamner Brown."

Hamner Brown resonated in his mouth, and Tim Hamner obviously loved the taste. "You see, comets

aren't just something pretty up in the sky. They're left over from the big gas cloud that formed

the solar system. If we could really learn something about cometsÑmaybe send up a space probeÑ

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt (9 of 385) [1/14/03 8:19:04 PM]

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt

we'd know more about what the original cloud of gas and dust was like before it fell in on itself

and made the Sun and the planets and moons and things like that."

"You're sober," Harvey said in wonder.

Hamner was startled. Then he laughed. "I meant to get drunk just to celebrate, but I guess I've

been talking instead of drinking." Rodriguez came over and put drinks in front of them. Hamner

lifted his scotch rocks in a salute.

"The way your eyes glow," Harvey said, "I thought you must be drunk. But what you say makes a lot

of sense. I doubt we could get a space probe launched, but what the hell, we could try. Only

you're talking about more than a single documentary for something like that. Listen, is there a

chance? I mean, could we send a probe into the comet? Because I know some people in the aerospace

industry, and . . ."

And, thought Harvey, that would be a story. Who can I get for editor? he wondered. And Charlie

Bascomb's available to do camera....

"Jellison, too," Hamner said. "He'd be for it. But look, Harv, I know a lot about comets, but not

that much. It's all guesswork right now. Be a few months before Hamner Brown gets to perihelion."

He added quickly, "Closest point to the Sun. Which isn't the same as the closest point to the

Earth. . . ."

"How close will that be?" Harvey asked.

Hamner shrugged. "Haven't analyzed the orbit yet. Maybe close. Anyway, Hamner Brown will be moving

fast when it rounds the Sun. It will have fallen all the way from the halo, out there beyond

Pluto, a long way. You understand, I won't really be computing the orbit. I'll have to wait for

the professionals, just like you."

Harvey nodded. They lifted their glasses and drank.

"But I like the idea," Hamner said. "There's going to be a lot of scientific pressure for studies

of Hamner Brown, and it wouldn't hurt to push the idea with the general public. I like it."

"Of course," Harvey said carefully, "I'd have to have a firm commitment on sponsorship before I

could do much work on this. Are you sure Kalva Soap would be interested? The show might pull a

good audienceÑbut it might not."

Hamner nodded. "Kahoutek," he said. "They were burned on that one before. Nobody wants to be

disappointed again."

"Yeah."

"So you can count on Kalva Soap. Let's get across why it's important to study comets even if you

can't see them. Because I can promise the sponsorship, but I can't promise the comet will deliver.

It might not be visible at all. Don't tell people anything more than that."

"I have a reputation for getting my facts straight."

"When your sponsor doesn't interfere," Hamner said.

"Even then, I have my facts straight."

"Good. But right now there aren't any facts. Hamner-Brown is pretty big. It has to be, or I

couldn't have seen it out that far. And it looks to get pretty close to the Sun. It has a chance

of being spectacular, but really, it's impossible to tell. The tail could stretch way y y out, or

it could just blow away. It depends on the comet."

"Yeah. Look," Harvey said, "can you name one newsman who lost his reputation because of Kahoutek?"

He nodded at the puzzled look that got. "Right. None. No chance. The public blamed the astronomers

for blowing it all out of proportion. Nobody blamed the news people."

"Why should they? You were quoting the astronomers."

file:///F|/rah/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txt (10 of 385) [1/14/03 8:19:04 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/larry%20niven/Lucifer's%20Hammer.txtByLarryNivenPublishedbyDelReyBooks:AGIFTFROMEARTHWORLDOFPTAVVSNEUTRONSTARTHESHAPEOFSPACEALLTHEMYRIADWAYSTHEFLYINGSORCERERSPROTECTORTHEFLIGHTOFTHEHORSEAHOLEINSPACETALESOFKNOWNSPACE:TheUniverseofLarryNivenTHELONGARMOFGILHAMILTONAWORLDOUTOFTIMECONVERGE...

展开>> 收起<<

Larry Niven & Jerry Pournelle - Lucifer ' s Hammer.pdf

共385页,预览10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！

Larry Niven & Jerry Pournelle - Lucifer ' s Hammer

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: