Way 1 - Eon by Greg Bear

Author:Greg Bear [Bear, Greg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Science Fiction, Fiction, Asteroids, Imaginary wars and battles
ISBN: 9780812520477
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 1991-10-15T21:43:30+00:00

"It's useless," Vielgorsky said. "It's filled with American propaganda. Why waste my time?"

Mirsky laughed out loud, more in anger than humor. "You poor son of a bitch," he said. "The people who built this starship were no more American than you or I." They halted before the ranks of chairs and chromium teardrops.

"If you kill me, Belozersky and Yazykov are fully capable of carrying on,"

Vielgorsky said.

"I'm not going to kill you," Mirsky said. "We need each other. I want you to sit down."

Vielgorsky stood his ground, shivering like a cold dog.

"The chairs won't eat you," Pogodin said, prodding him again.

"You cannot brainwash me," Vielgorsky blustered.

"No, but maybe I can educate you. Sit."

Vielgorsky slowly lowered himself into the nearest chair, facing the teardrop apprehensively. "You will force me to read books? That will be very silly."

Mirsky came around behind the chair and reached over to flip the control cover. "Would you like to learn how to speak English, French, German?"

Vielgorsky didn't answer.

"No? Then perhaps you'd like to learn a little about history. Not from an American point of view—from the viewpoint of our descendants. The Russians who survived the Death."

"I don't care," Vielgorsky said, his pale moist face almost all nose in the teardrop reflection.

"This is what the Americans were hiding from us," Mirsky said. "Isn't it your duty to inspect the treasure we were fighting for? Your superiors cannot.

They are dead, or soon will be. The entire Earth will be covered with smoke for years to come. Millions will starve to death or freeze. By the end of this decade, there will be less than ten million of our countrymen left alive."

"You're talking nonsense," Vielgorsky said, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"Our descendants built this starship," Mirsky said. "That's not propaganda, it sounds like fantasy, but it's truth, Vielgorsky, and all our squabbling with each other cannot conceal the truth. We trained and came here and fought and died to find the truth. You would be a traitor to turn away from it."

"Are you proposing we share power?" Vielgorsky asked, glancing up at him.

Mirsky swore under his breath and turned on the machine.

"It will speak to you in Russian," he said. "It will answer your questions and it will teach you how to use it. Now ask."

Vielgorsky stared at the floating library symbol, eyes wide.

"Ask."

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Start with our past. What they taught us in school."

The symbol changed to a question mark.

"Teach me about..." Vielgorsky looked up at Mirsky.

"Go on. It isn't painful. But it is addictive."

"Teach me about Nicholas I."

"That's pretty safe," Mirsky said. "Too far back. Ask it to teach you about the grand strategic plan of the Soviet Army from 1960 to 2005." Mirsky smiled. "Weren't you ever curious?"

"Teach me ... about that, then," Vielgorsky said.

The library silently searched and organized its presentation, numerous colorful utilily symbols flickering around Vielgorsky's field of view. Then it began.

After a half hour, Mirsy turned to Pogodin and Pritikin and told them to go back to the fourth chamber.

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