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1、Inherit the StarsJames P. HoganThis is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.Copyright 2006 by James P. Hogan. Inherit the Stars 1978 All rights reserved, including the right to re
2、produce this book or portions thereof in any form.A Baen Books eBookBaen Publishing Enterprises P.O. Box 1403 Riverdale, NY 10471 ISBN-10: 0-3453-0107-2First printing, May 1977Cover Art by Darrel K. SweetTo the memory of my FatherPrologueHe became aware of consciousness returning. Instinctively his
3、mind recoiled, as if by some effort of will he could arrest the relentless flow of seconds that separated nonawareness from awareness and return again to the timeless oblivion in which the agony of total exhaustion was unknown and unknowable. The hammer that had threatened to burst from his chest wa
4、s now quiet. The rivers of sweat that had drained with his strength from every hollow of his body were now turned cold. His limbs had turned to lead. The gasping of his lungs had returned once more to a slow and even rhythm. It sounded loud in the close confines of his helmet. He tried to remember h
5、ow many had died. Their release was final; for him there was no release. How much longer could he go on? What was the point? Would there be anyone left alive at Gorda anyway? “Gorda . . . ? Gorda . . . ?“ His mental defenses could shield him from reality no longer. “Must get to Gorda!“ He opened his
6、 eyes. A billion unblinking stars stared back without interest. When he tried to move, his body refused to respond, as if trying to prolong to the utmost its last precious moments of rest. He took a deep breath and, clenching his teeth at the pain that instantly racked again through every fiber of h
7、is body, forced himself away from the rock and into a sitting position. A wave of nausea swept over him. His head sagged forward and struck the inside of his visor. The nausea passed. He groaned aloud. “Feeling better, then, soldier?“ The voice came clearly through the speaker inside his helmet. “Su
8、ns getting low. We gotta be moving.“ He lifted his head and slowly scanned the nightmare wilderness of scorched rock and ash-gray dust that confronted him. “Whe“ The sound choked in his throat. He swallowed, licked his lips, and tried again. “Where are you?“ “To your right, up on the rise just past
9、that small cliff that juts outthe one with the big boulders underneath.“He turned his head and after some seconds detected a bright blue patch against the ink-black sky. It seemed blurred and far away. He blinked and strained his eyes again, forcing his brain to coordinate with his vision. The blue
10、patch resolved itself into the figure of the tireless Koriel, clad in a heavy-duty combat suit. “I see you.“ After a pause: “Anything?“ “Its fairly flat on the other side of the riseshould be easier going for a while. Gets rockier farther on. Come have a look.“ He inched his arms upward to find purc
11、hase on the rock behind, then braced them to thrust his weight forward over his legs. His knees trembled. His face contorted as he fought to concentrate his remaining strength into his protesting thighs. Already his heart was pumping again, his lungs heaving. The effort evaporated and he fell back a
12、gainst the rock. His labored breathing rasped over Koriels radio. “Finished . . . Cant move . . .“ The blue figure on the skyline turned. “Aw, what kinda talks that? This is the last stretch. Were there, buddywere there.“ “Nono good . . . Had it . . .“ Koriel waited a few seconds. “Im coming back do
13、wn.“ “Noyou go on. Someones got to make it.“ No response. “Koriel . . . ?“ He looked back at where the figure had stood, but already it had disappeared below the intervening rocks and was out of the line of transmission. A minute or two later the figure emerged from behind the nearby boulders, cover
14、ing the ground in long, effortless bounds. The bounds broke into a walk as Koriel approached the bunched form clad in red. “Cmom, soldier, on your feet now. Theres people back there depending on us.“ He felt himself gripped below his arm and raised irresistibly, as if some of Koriels limitless reser
15、ves of strength were pouring into him. For a while his head swam and he leaned with the top of his visor resting on the giants shoulder insignia. “Okay,“ he managed at last. “Lets go.“ Hour after hour the thin snake of footprints, two pinpoints of color at its head, wound its way westward across the
16、 wilderness and steadily lengthening shadows. He marched as if in a trance, beyond feeling pain, beyond feeling exhaustionbeyond feeling anything. The skyline never seemed to change; soon he could no longer look at it. Instead, he began picking out the next prominent boulder or crag, and counting off the paces until they reached it. “Two hundred and thirteen less to go.“ And then he repeated it over again . . . and again
