[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
prototypical new sentient races weren't exactly like their counterparts on the
Well World, but, overall, they were remarkably close. Na-tural selection was
taking its toll along the main line of dominance, too, leading to the one
minor branch that provided what was necessary for sentience, for dominance.
Brazil checked out the Well World. Most hexes had complied with the demands
placed on them, but there were a few too disorganized or too primitive to
com-ply, and Brazil now took steps to include them indis-criminately. When
their time came, any who fell short of the minimums would find their
populations halved by Well fiat.
Some of the Markovians, so long ago Mavra was now beginning to realize just
how long ago had been reluctant, too.
Both of them were prepared by midnight on the fifth day. It was time, they
knew, time to insert what was needed to complete the exercise, as Brazil
called it.
Every few seconds, between midnight and midnight, another racial group was
activated, sent through the
Well Gate, out to their predestined planets. Physically, they would never
arrive. They would inhabit the bod-ies prepared for them through billions of
years of evo-lution. These included the millions saved from oblivion by
Brazil's actions with the Markovian Gates, who would now be able to carry on
their own races, rebuild and grow or die as they themselves decided by their
actions.
Because there were still temporal differentials be-tween the Well World and
the universe, they were spread at different points, and some would reproduce,
grow old, and die, and be thousands, perhaps millions of years different from
other races placed on their worlds only minutes later, Well World time.
But for those occasional ones of races not destined for those planets who,
accidentally but unavoidably, went along for the ride, there was only an
instantane-ous trip. But they were incongruities on a primitive world not
meant for or designed for them. Most died out quickly, or became
half-whispered legends among the generations that followed, but a few would
hold on, manage somehow to survive, at least for a time.
At the end of the sixth day, when midnight came, the barriers to the Well Gate
were removed, the Zone
Gates shifted back to their normal patterns, all was as it was before.
And across the Well World there was heaved a col-lective sigh of relief.
Temporally, too, they were back on track. Six days had passed for them, almost
fourteen for the new uni-verse now being maintained by a repaired,
repro-grammed, and revitalized Well.
Nathan Brazil sighed and settled back on his tenta-cles. Mavra made some final
Page 156
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
checks and then did the same. It was over.
"Until some new damn fool decides to play around with the Markovian
mathematics, anyway," Brazil commented sourly. He reached out to her. "What
are your plans now?"
"I need a rest, and I want to think about it," she re-plied.
And so on the seventh day they did nothing at all.
"Decided yet?" he asked her early in the morning of the next day.
"Yeah. I think so, anyway. Maybe it's a mistake, I don't know. But I have to
play along with you, I
sup-pose. Your way, for now. What about you?"
"Oh, this is the fun part, the interesting part," he told her. "Going down
there and watching how they develop. It's only after they get there that it
starts driv-ing you crazy."
She laughed. "I think it's going to be fascinating,"
"Okay," he told her. "Let's get going, then. It's pre-civilization time in the
new world, but by the time we get through all this, it'll be the dawn of
so-called civi-lization. Ugh. You decided pretty much what you're going to
be?"
She nodded. "Pretty much the same, I think," she told him. "Matched a little
closer to our exit-point cul-ture, of course, but pretty much the same. You?"
"I'm afraid I proved to myself the last time that I couldn't be anybody but
what I always was. No mat-ter what, I always seem to come out the same, more
or less."
He flickered; the grand Markovian brilliance van-ished. Nathan Brazil stood
there, much as he had be-fore. There was a slight difference in his color, and
his beard was fuller, but it was still undeniably
Nathan Brazil.
And, oddly, some of the brilliance still showed through to her Markovian
senses the more she stared at him.
She flickered, then stood there, beside him. She was dark, lean, lithe, and
yet somehow exotic. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl wyciskamy.pev.pl
prototypical new sentient races weren't exactly like their counterparts on the
Well World, but, overall, they were remarkably close. Na-tural selection was
taking its toll along the main line of dominance, too, leading to the one
minor branch that provided what was necessary for sentience, for dominance.
Brazil checked out the Well World. Most hexes had complied with the demands
placed on them, but there were a few too disorganized or too primitive to
com-ply, and Brazil now took steps to include them indis-criminately. When
their time came, any who fell short of the minimums would find their
populations halved by Well fiat.
Some of the Markovians, so long ago Mavra was now beginning to realize just
how long ago had been reluctant, too.
Both of them were prepared by midnight on the fifth day. It was time, they
knew, time to insert what was needed to complete the exercise, as Brazil
called it.
Every few seconds, between midnight and midnight, another racial group was
activated, sent through the
Well Gate, out to their predestined planets. Physically, they would never
arrive. They would inhabit the bod-ies prepared for them through billions of
years of evo-lution. These included the millions saved from oblivion by
Brazil's actions with the Markovian Gates, who would now be able to carry on
their own races, rebuild and grow or die as they themselves decided by their
actions.
Because there were still temporal differentials be-tween the Well World and
the universe, they were spread at different points, and some would reproduce,
grow old, and die, and be thousands, perhaps millions of years different from
other races placed on their worlds only minutes later, Well World time.
But for those occasional ones of races not destined for those planets who,
accidentally but unavoidably, went along for the ride, there was only an
instantane-ous trip. But they were incongruities on a primitive world not
meant for or designed for them. Most died out quickly, or became
half-whispered legends among the generations that followed, but a few would
hold on, manage somehow to survive, at least for a time.
At the end of the sixth day, when midnight came, the barriers to the Well Gate
were removed, the Zone
Gates shifted back to their normal patterns, all was as it was before.
And across the Well World there was heaved a col-lective sigh of relief.
Temporally, too, they were back on track. Six days had passed for them, almost
fourteen for the new uni-verse now being maintained by a repaired,
repro-grammed, and revitalized Well.
Nathan Brazil sighed and settled back on his tenta-cles. Mavra made some final
Page 156
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
checks and then did the same. It was over.
"Until some new damn fool decides to play around with the Markovian
mathematics, anyway," Brazil commented sourly. He reached out to her. "What
are your plans now?"
"I need a rest, and I want to think about it," she re-plied.
And so on the seventh day they did nothing at all.
"Decided yet?" he asked her early in the morning of the next day.
"Yeah. I think so, anyway. Maybe it's a mistake, I don't know. But I have to
play along with you, I
sup-pose. Your way, for now. What about you?"
"Oh, this is the fun part, the interesting part," he told her. "Going down
there and watching how they develop. It's only after they get there that it
starts driv-ing you crazy."
She laughed. "I think it's going to be fascinating,"
"Okay," he told her. "Let's get going, then. It's pre-civilization time in the
new world, but by the time we get through all this, it'll be the dawn of
so-called civi-lization. Ugh. You decided pretty much what you're going to
be?"
She nodded. "Pretty much the same, I think," she told him. "Matched a little
closer to our exit-point cul-ture, of course, but pretty much the same. You?"
"I'm afraid I proved to myself the last time that I couldn't be anybody but
what I always was. No mat-ter what, I always seem to come out the same, more
or less."
He flickered; the grand Markovian brilliance van-ished. Nathan Brazil stood
there, much as he had be-fore. There was a slight difference in his color, and
his beard was fuller, but it was still undeniably
Nathan Brazil.
And, oddly, some of the brilliance still showed through to her Markovian
senses the more she stared at him.
She flickered, then stood there, beside him. She was dark, lean, lithe, and
yet somehow exotic. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]