Read Online the Dark Light Years by Brian W. Aldiss - Free Book Online
Authors: Brian W. Aldiss
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Science Fiction - General, Fiction - Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy
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- and he used the word without intending hyperbole - those terrible voyages; mortals, m'lud, like Rodney Walthamstone, upon whom space could not but have an overwhelming effect. This was well known, and had been designated Bestar's Syndrome ten years ago (named after the celebrated psychodynamician , m'lud).
Out in the cosmos, all the fundamental symbols and furnishings of man's minds were lacking, brutally lacking. One did not have to agree with the French philosopher Deutch that cosmos and mind were the two opposed poles of the magnet of entirety to realize that space travel imposed a great strain on any man, and that he might return to Earth with a hunger for normality that could not be satisfied through legal channels. Granted that be so. then it was this law and not the mind of man that should be altered; man had gone out into the infinite starry depths: it was up to the law to make itself somewhat less earthbound (laughter).
What symbol had more powerful hold over man's mind than a house, that symbol of home, of shelter from the hostile world, of civilization itself? So in this case of housebreaking, unfortunate though it was that the house owner had been coshed, the court should see that the not unheroic accused had merely been searching for a symbol. Of course, he admitted freely to having been slightly under the influence of drink at the same time, but Bestar's Syndrome allowed - The judge, allowing that the defense had a point, said he was nevertheless tired of space ratings who came back to Earth and treated England as if it were a bit of the un-developed cosmos. Thirty days behind bars might convince the prisoner that there was a considerable difference between the two.
The court adjourned for lunch, and a Miss Florence Walthamstone was led weeping from the court into the nearest public house.
"Hank, honey, you aren't really going to join the Space Corps, are you? You aren't going off into space again, are you?”
"I told you. honey, just on a Flight-by-Flight arrangement, like I had in the Exploration Corps.”
" I'll never understand you men, not if I live to be a thousand. What's out there, that attracts you? What do you get out of it?”
"Hell, it's a way of earning your living. Better than an office job, isn't it? I'm a brainy guy, honey, you don't seem to realize, passed all my exams, but there's so much competition here in America.”
"But what do you get out of it, that's what I want to know.”
"I told you, I may wind up captain. Now how about let-ting the subject rest for a bit, hey?”
"I didn't want to talk about it.”
"You didn't? Well , who do you think did, then? Some-times I think you and me just don't talk the same language.”
"Darling. Darling! Darling, don't you think it's time we got up now?”
"Mmm?”
"It's ten o'clock, darling.”
"Mmm, Early yet.”
"I'm hungry.”
"I was dreaming about you, Gussie.”
"We were going to get the eleven o'clock ferry across to Hong Kong, remember? You were going to sketch today, remember?”
"Mmm. Kiss me again, darling.”
"Mmm. Darling.”
CHAPTER SIX
Head Keeper was a sparse grey man who had recently taken to brushing his hair so that it showed under each side of his peaked cap. He had worked under Pasztor long ago - many moons before he had had trouble in walking downstairs in the morning - far below the icy cliffs of the Ross Ice Shelf. His name, as it happened, was Ross, Ian Edward Tinghe Ross, and he gave Bruce Ainson a smart salute as the explorer came up.
"Morning, Ross. How's everything this morning? I'm late.”
"Big conference this morning, sir. They've only just started. Sir Mihaly is in there, of course, and the three linguists - Dr. Bodley Temple and his two associates -and a statistician, I forget his name, little man with a warty neck, you can't miss him, and a lady - a scientist, I believe - and that Oxford philosopher again, Roger Wittgenbacher, and our American friend, Lattimore, and the novelist, Gerald Bone, and
Out in the cosmos, all the fundamental symbols and furnishings of man's minds were lacking, brutally lacking. One did not have to agree with the French philosopher Deutch that cosmos and mind were the two opposed poles of the magnet of entirety to realize that space travel imposed a great strain on any man, and that he might return to Earth with a hunger for normality that could not be satisfied through legal channels. Granted that be so. then it was this law and not the mind of man that should be altered; man had gone out into the infinite starry depths: it was up to the law to make itself somewhat less earthbound (laughter).
What symbol had more powerful hold over man's mind than a house, that symbol of home, of shelter from the hostile world, of civilization itself? So in this case of housebreaking, unfortunate though it was that the house owner had been coshed, the court should see that the not unheroic accused had merely been searching for a symbol. Of course, he admitted freely to having been slightly under the influence of drink at the same time, but Bestar's Syndrome allowed - The judge, allowing that the defense had a point, said he was nevertheless tired of space ratings who came back to Earth and treated England as if it were a bit of the un-developed cosmos. Thirty days behind bars might convince the prisoner that there was a considerable difference between the two.
The court adjourned for lunch, and a Miss Florence Walthamstone was led weeping from the court into the nearest public house.
"Hank, honey, you aren't really going to join the Space Corps, are you? You aren't going off into space again, are you?”
"I told you. honey, just on a Flight-by-Flight arrangement, like I had in the Exploration Corps.”
" I'll never understand you men, not if I live to be a thousand. What's out there, that attracts you? What do you get out of it?”
"Hell, it's a way of earning your living. Better than an office job, isn't it? I'm a brainy guy, honey, you don't seem to realize, passed all my exams, but there's so much competition here in America.”
"But what do you get out of it, that's what I want to know.”
"I told you, I may wind up captain. Now how about let-ting the subject rest for a bit, hey?”
"I didn't want to talk about it.”
"You didn't? Well , who do you think did, then? Some-times I think you and me just don't talk the same language.”
"Darling. Darling! Darling, don't you think it's time we got up now?”
"Mmm?”
"It's ten o'clock, darling.”
"Mmm, Early yet.”
"I'm hungry.”
"I was dreaming about you, Gussie.”
"We were going to get the eleven o'clock ferry across to Hong Kong, remember? You were going to sketch today, remember?”
"Mmm. Kiss me again, darling.”
"Mmm. Darling.”
CHAPTER SIX
Head Keeper was a sparse grey man who had recently taken to brushing his hair so that it showed under each side of his peaked cap. He had worked under Pasztor long ago - many moons before he had had trouble in walking downstairs in the morning - far below the icy cliffs of the Ross Ice Shelf. His name, as it happened, was Ross, Ian Edward Tinghe Ross, and he gave Bruce Ainson a smart salute as the explorer came up.
"Morning, Ross. How's everything this morning? I'm late.”
"Big conference this morning, sir. They've only just started. Sir Mihaly is in there, of course, and the three linguists - Dr. Bodley Temple and his two associates -and a statistician, I forget his name, little man with a warty neck, you can't miss him, and a lady - a scientist, I believe - and that Oxford philosopher again, Roger Wittgenbacher, and our American friend, Lattimore, and the novelist, Gerald Bone, and
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