Alice: The Girl From Earth - Булычев Кир. Страница 76
Having considered and weighed all the information, the alarm clock returned its attention to Alice and played on the flute the opening strains of Vaughan Williams’ “The Lark Ascending”
“He rises and begins to round
he drops the silver chain of sound
Of many links without break
In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake….”
As precisely that melody which it deemed most appropriate for awakening Alice.
As the notes died away Alice opened her eyes, stretched her arms and thought: “Why do I feel so good now?” The alarm clock registered her mood and laughed internally, as it was not designed to laugh externally.
Alice got out of bed and opened the window, did her morning exercises and headed for the bathroom. The alarm clock, satisfied and smug, went to sleep until the next morning.
The Martian Mantis, who for as long as anyone could remember had lived in a box beneath Alice’s bed, on hearing that she had gotten up, started to crack its joints, rose, and headed off for the kitchen where a plate with dried peas was already awaiting him. The house robot slammed the large album with its stamp collection shut and turned on the stove. As a result, when Alice, washed and dressed, returned to her own room, her breakfast was already on her table.
Alice’s first duty was to feed the blue titmouse who had landed on her window ledge, then she went to the TV wall and told it she wanted the news.
At the end of the Twenty-First Century a television was not at all the same as it had been at the end of the Twentieth. On the outside it resembled an enormous screen that covered the wall. If you ordered the screen to turn on, it began to move across the wall in such a manner to position itself precisely in front of the eyes of the viewer. Then the TV began to show exactly what you wanted. If you wanted to see the news, the news would begin, but if you were in the mood to hear the latest pop song “My Grandmother Flew to Venus,” then the TV would show you a concert of hit songs. In the twenty-first century man was no longer a slave to TV that only showed what it wanted to be shown; TV was a servant of mankind, displaying whatever the viewer wished.
Alice wanted to know what was new, what had happened in the world while she was sleeping. The TV wall dropped away, as though a door to another room had opened in front of Alice’s eyes. Alice’s personal news-reader Nina came through the door and sat at the table opposite Alice and said, “Good Morning.” The screen behind her back became a giant window. Sometimes, so as not to obscure Alice’s view, Nina vanished.
“Summer is coming.” The news reader began. “Buds have appeared on the city’s trees and the first snowdrops have blossomed in the fields. Snow remains only in the old spruce forests; it has already vanished from the birch forests and open fields.”
Alice looked at a scene of trees bending beneath the wind, and thought: Why in the world would anyone want to go to school when you could go looking for snowdrops in the forest? If I hadn’t had that final exam in Geography I’d be in a flyer now headed for the forest!
“Eat, Alice.” The house robot who stood behind her said. “Many great people have begun their mornings with Hercules flakes.”
“Name one.” Alice asked.
Hearing that Alice was speaking with the robot, the hologram of Nina grew silent and waited until Alice finished.
“Who?” The robot thought a moment, then declared: “Alexander the Great, certainly. Ilya Murometz and Sir Lancelot, of course; neither ate anything else.”
“And Julius Caesar?” Alice asked. “I don’t think he would have sat still for Hercules flakes for a moment!”
“I shall prove it to you.” The robot answered carefully. “By suppertime all of the necessary documentation will have been downloaded to your In-Box.”
“Continue, Nina.” Alice asked.
“A construction team has established a new world record.” Nina said. Behind her back appeared an enormous building. “Yesterday they erected a twenty story building of some three hundred apartments in two hours thirty-one minutes, winning a place in the Guinness Book of Records. At the news of this record,” Nina turned toward the wall; it changed to show a cheerful, black eyed man with a broad face and high, prominent cheek bones in an orange construction helmet. “On hearing of this record the Beijing construction engineer Wei Tsin-Xin swore he would construct a larger building in half an hour. The new building will be larger by twelve apartments. We will have more news this evening.
“It’s all very fly-by night.” The house robot said. “A building should not be hurried; two or three days is fast enough. They are so entranced by speed they give no thought to beauty.”
“I’d say it’s an attractive building.” Alice said.
At the end of the twenty-first century buildings were erected very differently from the way they were put up in the twentieth. The builders erected a plasteel skeleton of the first floor. Then they poured the foundations of the future walls as dry spores of special, quick growing corrals. All that had to be done then was to pour water on the coral spores and watch them grow to envelop the plasteel rods. Several minutes later the first floor was ready. At that point the finishers went to work, and the construction crew had already raised the plasteel skeleton for the next floor….
“Yesterday archaeologists finished their dig at the store house for military robots under the ruins of the castle on Cape Bonnifaccio.” The news reader said. “The robots were all recycled.”
“War robots! Such madness!” The house robot declared. “It’s like talking about a round cube or an honest politician.”
“The Sergeyev-Shumsky expedition has returned from the planet Struq in the 46-B system.” Nina said, ignoring the mere robot. “While flying through a mirror cloud some three parsecs from Earth the expedition’s ship was subjected to an unknown form of radiation as a result of which all members of the crew were duplicated; as a result for every one member of the crew who set out, two have returned to Earth. This has led to a certain degree of unpleasantness for all concerned.” The newsreader signed. The wall behind her showed the landed space ship, from which the gloomy space men emerged as sets of twins as their relatives rushed forward to greet them: their wives, their children, their parents… who stopped and stared in confusion.
“The duplicated space men,” Nina continued, “Do not know who is real and who is the double. We hope their wives and mothers will be able to resolve the problem. In any case, our correspondent informs us the head of Space Research plans to send the relatives on a flight to the mirror cloud so they too will be duplicated.”
“Idiocy.” The house robot said. “Why torment themselves? If before you had only one son, now you have two. Where before you had one father, now you have two. Let one take the risks in space while the second remains at home raising the family.”
“No.” Alice spoke up. “It would never work. It will work with the mothers, it will work with the children. But it would never suit the wives.”
“And why not?”
“Because when one of the spacemen wants to kiss his wife the second will say: “What right to you have to kiss my wife?”
“I still cannot understand human beings.” The robot sighed.
“And this in from Port Darwin, Northern Australia.” The reader continued. “A dolphin is reported to have saved the life of a young girl who had gone swimming in the area of the Great Barrier Reef, and almost drowned. The dolphin brought her back to shore. When the girl’s overjoyed parents started to thank the dolphin, it answered them in English: ‘Don’t mention it, mate.’ This is the first trustworthy report in history of a dolphin speaking English, if only the languages’s Australian dialect.”
“Typical TV joke.” Alice said. “Unfortunately, dolphins don’t talk, although Bertha thinks otherwise.”