Рябоконь Андрей Александрович : другие произведения.

The Flower

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  Alex LENNOX
  
  (новелла "в режиме Перевод с английского" - русский текст см. "Цветок" на этом же сайте)
  
  
   THE FLOWER
  
  
  Alex was slowly walking along quite shady street of the country town.
  He hadn"t been to Wales for ages.
  On each side of him, front gardens behind low wooden fences were competing with their bright colors and different forms of the flowers.
  The accurate lines of espalier apple and cherry trees were stretching along.
  "Flowers have baby faces..." - once heard or read the words of an ancient philosopher worked their way into my conscious mind.
  But he hadn't enough time to finish this thought as the coin, merrily tinkling, dropped onto the pavement in front of him.
  It was a big ancient coin - a golden crown with a king riding horse. The obverse glittered, sharply defining outlines of the figures. It seemed that the coin was just minted. Rarity! Sixteenth or, at least, the beginning of the seventeenth century. It is impossible. Alex looked around trying to find out where the coin had dropped from.
  No one was about.
  Only the wind rustled in the emerald leaves and, agreeing with him, the flowers were shaking their heads in the nearest front garden.
  Alex was really dumbfounded.
  Right from behind the low fence, gazing at him, sarcastically tilting its head, was ... the flower of exceptional beauty.
  No, it wasn"t a baby"s face.
  Alex got an impression that a huge white flower, with the peach "filling" in the heart which looked like an orchid and a splendid peony, winked at him.
  Double orchid.
  What the fuck!
  If there's anything Alex was good at, it was this.
  It's not for nothing that for five years after graduating biological faculty he had been working in Kew where he did postgraduate studies.
  He knew the botanical collection of the richest scientific establishment of the whole civilized world, what you call, thoroughly.
  Such orchids do not exist as well as peonies.
  He saw such things for the first time. And, to tell the truth, he was really at a loss how to qualify it.
  Through habit the candidate"s brain immediately tried to classify the specimen he saw straight away, from common point of view of a professional.
   "Even don"t try" - he fancied he heard a voice, as quite as the breath of a wind.
  Or it was just a plot of his imagination?
  The flower winked at him again.
  Alex lost his head and dropped the coin.
  From the heart of the flower, where pistils and stamen, umbraging with gorgeous petals, should grow, an EYE looked.
  A real eye, almost human one.
  "Well, candidate, come in. Let"s talk. " - somebody else's thought came up in his mind in a smooth wave.
  Somebody else"s thought. Absolutely strange thought.
  I must be going bats, Alex thought.
   "No, you don"t" - again in his head someone"s voice soughed and purred. - "Come in, the wicket is open"
  At that instant, to give point to the thoughts-words, the ungreased hinges groaned slightly, opening the leaf of the simple garden-gate.
  "It has no owner." - someone"s thought continued, - "It has no owner. You may take this place if you help me."
  Alex continued standing like a bump on a log, like a statue.
  That's really out of sight!.. He was fascinated by space fairy-tales and naive primitive Jedi films in the distant snotty childhood.
   "As soon as you agree, there, inside, the title deeds for the house with the mezzanine and one and a half acres demesne, will materialize on the table".
  Alex simply could not believe in this complete nonsense: he was talking (communicating by the means of telepathy or something else) with plant, just a flower, even very rare.
  But he flung his eyes - mechanically - at a little, like a toy, house, glanced appraisingly at colorful walls where soft aquamarine tint predominated. He also glanced at tiny windows in wide fresh varnished frames which keep the natural color of the walnut.
  These strange details just emphasized unreality of everything that was going on.
  "I'm in a bit of a jam... I already hear voices...Ok, let"s suppose. Let"s suppose I am in my right mind and have to ..."
  "You have to be my hands for a couple of hours. That"s all", - the same inner voice or, whatever it was, interrupted his thoughts. Alex was about to say ... but the foreign voice again preceded him.
  "For a start dig me up from the humid substratum. It was raining yesterday and I almost have a cold. Besides, my mobility is extremely limited. Having sent me to your primitive planet as an independent observer, our governing body made an awful - an awful personally for me - mistake, trusting excessively on intergalactic secret service. The data of the secret service supplemented with comments on security and advantages of the brief observer"s stay under protection of the organic capsule of the so called plant. Oh, a Universal Spirit! For almost three months I can"t move my limbs normally and it is disgusting... Why are you standing?! Dig me up, quickly! The instruments are in the outbuilding!" - the inner voice was taking on hysterical notes.
  Alex came to himself, shook his head and began to walk along the path that was laid out with old polygonal blocks of dark burned clay.
  He went to the outbuilding which was placed by the side of the house.
  The wicket creaked shut slowly behind him.
  In the outbuilding he took a non-corrosive garden spade.
  Having thought a minute, he took an enamel bucket.
  When he returned to the garden he started to dig around the plant. Crouching, with both arms around it, he clasped a clump of dirt as it crumbled under his touch.
   "The substratum has already performed his function. Put me into the bucket, put quicker!" - the candidate shivered because of the exacting flower"s voice.
  He really liked flowers, but not to such an extent...
  "Probably they are telepathists" - Alex thought.
  "What do you mean? Explain!" - the flower ordered.
  "Well, telepathists are people who can read other"s thoughts or put their thoughts into other"s minds..." - Alex started explaining confusingly. He got used quickly to the fact of the absolutely odd and silent dialog which he had to carry on with the ordinary - more likely with unusual - plant.
  "First of all I am not a human being. Secondly you confuse the concepts. As to the hypnosis - I am in the know. You have just mixed up telepathists with hypnotists. "
  But on the whole that"s right...That will do for general knowledge". Alex wasn"t sure that he understood right the phrase about general knowledge.
  "In short, carry me into the house. You dare - be careful! The leaves are too tender - this organic is absolutely fragile... When I get to the centre - I"ll immediately make up a slashing report, smash to pieces the intelligence data, plague take it..." Alex granted the peremptory request without demur.
  
  Carefully, he carried the bucked inside the house, trying to keep it at a distance, almost at arm's length. "The roots are short. And the tuber or rhizome looks like water hemlock"s underground organs" - the - thought mechanically. "By the way, where from he could find out that I am doing postgraduate studies?"
  "Piece of cake! But let"s stop range far and wide. Do you see the papers on the table? Go and look at them. The Superior Creature always keeps its promises! Well, almost always..."
  Alex came to the table by the window and bended over the documents which were set there. Everything was right, the surname was written without any mistake, the date. They were notarized; there was the license number, seals, and address. Everything is ok. It was a miracle!
  "It's no great cop!" - the flower said from its bucket, - "That"s only beginning! You see, I don"t lie."
  "Yes, thank you..." - the young man scratched his head. - "I"d like to ask how should I address you - I mean what is your name?"
  "It"s hard for a human being to spell my name even mentally!" - the flower started to pontificate. - "Your primitive human brain is too underdeveloped, it contains extremely little notions. And it will take a long time you to join the Community even as an unequal member on probation. Not to mention about the full membership in the Galaunion! Anyway, it is meritoriously. Politeness is a rare quality of the modern representatives of your defective race" -there came a kind of chuckle. - "You may call me the Professor. Just the Professor. It partly displays my important function in our society. Is it clear?" - Absolutely! - Alex suddenly started to speak aloud but having noticed this he immediately confused and paused. - Is it ok that I?...
  "All right, go it. That"s all the same to me", - the flower allowed graciously.
  - Professor, I"d like to know, - the candidate continued more confident while he accepted usual for him rules of play as he returned to the University lecture-hall - I"d like to be quite sure that You are there, on the Earth, without malicious pursuit and even on the contrary, with the human one...
  "In a word you wanted to ask but what if I am from the vanguard of conquerors?" - a short snicker again.- "Don"t worry. The developing of your planet and, particularly, reduction of things to order there is rather off my beat."
  It goes without saying that a part of minerals we will convert - a paltry part, only a couple dozens of tones for the resources recovery. I hope you won"t object? Ha-ha-ha..." - the flower was little shaking with his leaves and stalk. Obviously, it was the outward signs of the alien"s high spirit.
  Suddenly the leaves stiffened. "By the way, I worry very much."
  They were to have picked me up yesterday!
  A short-wave communication which I can use allows transmitting signals only to orbit - and I can"t establish radio contact with my group. What conclusion can you draw from this?" - the flower asked strictly.
  - Evidently, something might have delayed them! - Alex blurt out in one breath.
  "Very proper, very proper indeed, - the professor nodded to Alex with a pompous look.
  "Thus, I must re-deploy to the orbital station and tried to establish a reliable communications from there. You must help me to do this."
  - "To establish the communications?!" - the candidate asked to repeat.
   "No!!! Get out of here, this is it!.." - the flower barked crossly. "You will put me into the aircraft which will take me to the orbital station! By the way, get back and pick up that coin. I"ll need an aurum soon. For some reason this metal is scarce there."
  Alex left the house obediently and picked up the golden crown with the monarch on the obverse out of the wicket.
  He examined the king, who rode horse, more carefully and with greater interest.
  Having turned over the coin he discerned an open-worked emblem. The crown is almost new. That"s your "flowers"! That"s what they can! And where did they manage to get it! Perhaps in the museum?
  "Giddy up, pal Alex. An aircraft - a flyer boat- is in the back room. Take me there! Oh, my God!.. Where have you got lost?!"
  The young man, with the coin held in the fist, returned into the house and took the plant into the next room.
  A gaunt construction in which the Professor was going to go to the orbital station more likely resembled a conglomeration of pans and pots flanked with the semblance of wings. I would never say that it is a spaceship, Alex thought.
  "There, on the side, a hatch into the lock-chamber. As soon as the hatch will open, put me inside carefully."
  When the hatch opened quietly it showed a rather small chamber which was twinkling with different dots of light.
  As the control panel, the candidate thought. "Yes, the control, but it is not a flight control. Look out, carefully! Thus you may strip all my leaves!!" - the flower cried in a shrill falsetto. Alex was so shocked, he nearly dropped it and hunched.
  - Damn it!... - he cried in a suppressed voice.
  "This is no time to speak about rolls and buns", the garden flower said severely while it was making itself comfortable in the small lock-chamber. And, as it seemed to the young man, at the same time it was coiling a green stalk.
  "Take into account that we have quite little time! So, give me back the coin..."
  - Excuse me, Professor...
  "What"s else?!" - the flower said indignantly and the shutting hatch stopped on the half way.
  - Excuse me, Professor, but I just wanted to ask you what star system did you come from and I"d like to know about the potential of your civilization - especially as to the curing incurable diseases from which mankind suffers.. .
  "I"ll tell you a few words before I go. Firstly, you contradict yourself when you say aloud the meaningless thesis about the cure incurable diseases! Secondly, we have a little time..."
  - Sorry, I understand ...
  "Don"t interrupt me!.. Thirdly, young man, as I have understood from the intelligence reports and my own, extremely bitter experience of staying on your semi-barbarian planet - the lamentable fact is humanoids" genetic predisposition to the obscessive pursuit of money. There is an amazing greed in combination with the morbid fetishism! You - all of you, humanoids - distinguish from other anthropoid apes for - I emphasize- for the worse, because of this undoubted fact and that paganism which is deeply rooted in your mind! You pretend that you believe in supreme goals and high morality - and actually worship to a great number of primitive symbols and try to use them to progress to the next level in the absurd hierarchy. Clannish structure, disguised castes - it is disgusting! It is a unique morbid collection. It is unique even for the Galaxy. No, I am absolutely glad that finally I"ll get out of here!.."
  - And there is nonhumanoid - earthlings? - Alex asked, taking the beginning of the Professor"s tirade out of the context.
  "You interrupt me again! No, darling, you won't make it through the first semester here with me - of this, I can assure you."
  The fact that the Professor used formal and informal addressing surprised the candidate least of all.
  "Of course there are a lot of nonhumanoids. They are highly organized invertebrates with chitin in the external skeleton; other carnivorous or herbivorous mammals ... ...pah..." - there the flower flinched remembering something especially unpleasant and his interlocutor understood that the alien doesn"t distinguish humankind and other inhabitants of the planet, - "then those ...birds... however we have digressed. So...", - the flower touched lightly with his leaf to one of the buttons on the shimmering panel, - "Now, young man, I"ll give you a box...which contains soft capsules..."
  Something moved out from the wall and the Professor "said" crossly: "Take it faster!" Alex hastily stretched out his hand; with two fingers he took the prism. It felt warm and uneven.
  "The capsules influence highly the biochemical processes of organisms like yours", - in the candidate"s head already wonted, little capricious and slightly quivering voice continued to sound, - "... and can renew hampered performance of the injured organs not only in case of disease and, say ... at external injuries. But - I should warn you! This substance will not grow you a new hand or leg! And another thing: take it not oftener than one capsule per month - better one per half a year. Swallow. Is it clear?"
  - It is clear! Thank you, Professor! And ...wash down or ...?
  "As you wish. Anything but drinks, on no account!!!"
  - Thank you very much...
  "Now let"s talk about money. Show how your soft money looks like - I can"t squander resources on the metal".
  "Yes, of course..." - the candidate felt in his thin pockets and started to empty them. There he found several frayed banknotes. Alex chose a half-pound note, the newer one, and held out the money into the slightly opened hatch..
  The hatch closed. Something cracked and snorted, in ten seconds the hatch half-opened again and a stack of rolled up banknotes appeared in poor candidate"s hands.
  It"s a pity, he thought, that he couldn"t find "models" of ten or even five-pound notes.
  
  - Thank you! - Alex said quite sincerely.
   "Don't mention it" -as it seemed to Alex, the answer was cheerful. - "You are welcome!"
  The hatch closed.
  A space ship - or rather toy-ship - which resembled construction of abstract artists who live in the kitchen - quietly flied up over the floor.
  Having hovered and shaken in the air the ship slowly flew through the open window. Hesitating for a couple of seconds, as if thinking it over, it made a sudden turn flying an arc around an apple tree branch, heavy with bright lemon-yellow fruit, and then it darted into the sky.
  Alex toyed with the roll of notes. Firstly, having glanced over only the upper ones and then examining the others carefully he ascertained that all of them had the same serial number.
  But there also was the prism with capsules which was made of an unknown alloy. May be, the candidate dreamt, it"s better to retrain as a biochemist? To examine the content of the capsules! It may occur that revolution in the science is on the horizon!..
  Revolution in medicine!.. It is new opportunities for recovery and medical treatment of the diseases which were fatal earlier. It is long-awaited, cherished dreams of hundred generations - happiness of renewed humankind.
  Alex was looking dreamily into the sky that was getting dark and where the stars came out. On the left, over the trees, the owl"s claw of the growing young moon emerged.
  A half-hour later a young man was still standing by the open window, looking into the sky where the toy-ship from the unknown star system had disappeared.
  His face, which was warmed with the unbelievable events of that miraculous day, was fanned with the night coolness.
  Before his mind"s eye he saw the fretful flower which was flying to the orbit. The one which evidently had gone forever. What a character this professors have - having sighed Alex thought.
  
  
  *********
   P.S. (only for the editorial stuff) For author"s copies and documents:
   Post office box 494, Kharkiv, Ukraine, 61103.
   Wish You success!
   Sincerely,
   Andrew (Andrey) Alexandrovich Ryabokon, the author of several books (total print is about 200 000 copies) and a hundred of publications in Russia, Ukraine, Germany and Austria.
  
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