Starships theme. Ivan Efremov

In this story (Ivan Efremov's first) the story begins with a paradox - a dinosaur skull with a bullet hole is found. The lizard was shot long before the appearance of man as a species, which prompted the main character (scientist Alexei Shatrov) to think about aliens. His friend paleontologist Davydov is also struggling with the mysterious sudden death of many dinosaurs, as if from radiation. In addition, Shatrov’s student, an astronomer who died in the war, once calculated the movement of stars in such a way that he proved the long-standing approach of the Earth to a galaxy where life is possible. Everything converged on the visit of aliens...

The main idea of the story is in many worlds. It’s in vain that humanity is so isolated on itself; a lot of things could happen without its knowledge in this world.

Read the summary of Efremov Starships

Shatrov is a respected scientist who spends his free time drawing to calm down and concentrate. His Chinese colleague tells him the startling news of a discovery with a possible bullet hole. Reflecting on the riddle, Alexey remembers that he never received a completed theory of the movement of stars from his student. An astronomer student died heroically in the war. Shatrov went to the battlefield, saw a mangled car, and even found a surviving bag with drawings. All this, as well as Davydov’s story, convinces him that millions of years ago a galaxy came critically close to Earth, from where aliens could fly. Most likely, they were interested in fuel. However, the dinosaurs did not greet the guests kindly. There was a battle, the aliens left the earth. Further proof of all this was an incomprehensible artifact found among the bones of dinosaurs, similar to a turtle shell.

The story was inspired by the found skull of an ancient bison - with a bullet hole, which, however, later turned out to be the work of larvae.

Picture or drawing Starships

Other retellings for the reader's diary

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I have a special relationship with this work. This was probably the first story (story) by Ivan Efremov that I read from beginning to end. I was 12-13 years old then. At that time, I was “terribly” interested in the themes of space, aliens, incredible alien worlds, and so on. It seemed to me (although I didn’t clearly formulate this at the time) that the intelligent and irrational creatures of these worlds could be as bizarre as they wanted, even looking “like the shine of flowing water,” as was sung in one song (in the TV program “This Fantastic World”) . My friends and I then (in the era of no Internet:) liked to fantasize about this topic. At first, this story did not seem very interesting to me, except for the moment when the ships met the tsunami. But then I came to the author’s argument about the anthropomorphism of intelligent life and, I remember, I was simply amazed (I can’t even find another word). True, it was a childish impression in many respects - as if someone had explained (exposed) a miracle, but in such a way that this explanation turned out to be much more interesting than the miracle itself. I think it was with Starships that my love for sci-fi began. Then, probably, while reading the description of the image of a person from another world, I began to grasp Efremov’s epic style and the pathos of his ideas. And then I developed a certain interest in paleontology (and in science in general as a method of understanding the world), which also seemed to me to be something like SF creativity.

Later I appreciated the elegance and thoughtfulness of the SF hypothesis expressed by Efremov. From a broken tank from the Second World War, the writer's thought rushes tens of millions of years ago - to the era of dinosaurs and at the same time soars to the stars. But it soars not just, as they say, on the wings of a dream, but also on the basis of plausible (not pseudo-scientific) assumptions. Organically combining “everyday” details and cosmic motifs, Efremov was able to perfectly convey the joy of being present and discovering the unknown. But this is, first of all, why we value SF (at least in its “classical” version). As A.F. wrote Britikov: “Sci-fi fiction satisfies the insatiable thirst for exploring the unknown, responds to the vital, innate search instinct of man.”

Despite some sketchiness of the characters, “Starships” is an example of outstanding science fiction and scientific-philosophical creativity.

Rating: 10

In the endless night of the Cosmos, along the route once chosen by chance and the laws of the universe, the stars float through the Galaxy, like ships on the ocean. Few of them carry passengers - planets, and very few can boast of precious grains of Life. “Sometimes stars come together and then move apart again for billions of years, like ships of the same galaxy.”

A short story about the triumph of Life and Reason. A story about science and scientists, the value of knowledge and Life - fleeting and so fragile that it can only exist on a small number of Worlds, separated by an insurmountable abyss of space and time.

I always liked the deliberate everydayness of this story. Dusty archives and collections awaiting their researchers, scientists discussing the innermost secrets of the Universe over a cup of tea and sandwiches among the routine affairs of everyday life. And against this background - the mystery of the death of dinosaurs, the movement of lithospheric plates, ancient bones and incomprehensible artifacts - the latest evidence of aliens visiting the Earth.

In the story, the two peoples will never meet: they were separated not only by Space, but also by merciless time. But science and knowledge make it possible to feel kinship, a community of mind, “conscious

the merciless laws of the Universe, beating in the agony and joy of knowledge.” The unity of all passengers on ships flying in the night, giving hope that the wonderful dream of flying to the stars will come true.

It will be if this pain that runs through the entire story disappears: the war that throws humanity back on the path of knowledge. She constantly breaks into such a bright narrative about the diversity of manifestations of Life and Intelligence, Space and the stars: tanks rusting on the battlefields, unexploded shells and the memory of scientists and thinkers who died without having time to formulate ideas or make discoveries that could open the star road for the ship called “Earth”.

Rating: 9

This is probably my first encounter with the story of paleocontact, because the book has been in the family library since 1956. She was also one of the impetus for my passion for paleontology. The scientific research and passion of the heroes for their profession is perfectly described. One of the reasons for the death of dinosaurs on our planet has been put forward. The artistic talent of the author is undeniable. It was Efremov and Obruchev who invited young people into geology. One of the incentives was this story.

Rating: 9

This is a completely different matter! Otherwise, after “The Great Ring,” and especially after “The Hour of the Bull,” I was left with such a gloomy, depressing impression that I no longer wanted to read Efremov. But I still took on this story, and did not regret it - a magnificent classic Soviet science fiction.

The liveliness and authenticity of the characters - qualities that were so lacking in The Great Ring - are beyond doubt in this work - what is needed, no more and no less. Probably, Ivan Antonovich copied the two main and, quite possibly, some secondary characters from his real-life colleagues, and it turned out very bright.

As for the pathos mentioned in other reviews, I didn’t notice anything like that, there are only sublime words, filled with hopes for the future of humanity, but here they are in moderation and do not cause rejection or set the teeth on edge.

I was impressed by the moment when nine hundred workers, engaged in the difficult and even exhausting work of a colossal industrial construction site, went to work on their day off in a single impulse - to help scientists with excavations. What could motivate us to do such an act today? Overtime pay? Bonuses from the employer?

And in general - how great it is when the industry of a huge and powerful country keeps pace with the interests of academic science, takes it into account and helps it in every possible way.

I’ll touch on the science-fiction component here, perhaps, only in passing (I don’t want to ruin the intrigue), I’ll just say that this story is probably one of the first works on the topic of inappropriate artifacts, although in the context they turn out to be quite appropriate, desirable and even expected.

Rating: 9

Classic is classic.

I read it for the first time in my distant childhood and forever remembered the proof that alien intelligent beings must be largely humanoid.

The story is remarkable for its combination of a fascinating science fiction hypothesis, educational content, and an attempt to tell about the difficult path of scientific research. And this is with a very simple plot.

When was the story written? In the collected works it is dated 1944; but in one of the interviews (http://iae.newmail.ru/Publicism/VL78-02-1.htm) - the text of which Efremov read and signed - the author attributed its writing to 1946.

If this is 1944, then the author, as in some of his stories of that time, is mentally transported to the near - but already peaceful - future. The action of the story covers two years - from 1946 (apparently from the beginning of summer) to 1948. The description of the observatory, which - just a few months after the end of the war - has already been rebuilt after destruction and is equipped with several powerful telescopes, is overly optimistic and implausible.

But even if the second date is correct, the mention of the hydrogen bomb in the text appears to be a later insertion. Well, “nuclear peaceful machines” are pure fantasy :) .

Autobiographical elements are noticeable in the image of Davydov (even the patronymic names are consonant: Ilya Andreevich - Ivan Antonovich; Davydov, like Efremov, was a sailor in his youth).

Lexical observation: the story gives a vivid and memorable picture of giant ocean waves generated by an earthquake - but the word “tsunami” is never used; Apparently, at that time it had not yet received citizenship rights in the Russian language.

Who were these “fascist bandits” in Sichuan in 1940? This area was far from the zone of Japanese occupation. I guess that’s what it was customary to call Kuomintang members like in the USSR?

Rating: 9

Humanitarian fiction in the most precise sense, purely scientific, and carrying a very specific ideological message. What does Efremov want to say by describing the found remains of aliens who visited us in ancient times? Firstly, we are not alone in the universe; there is intelligent life on other planets (all this is described in purely scientific language). Secondly, humanity has a chance to break out of its current state, and become beings of a higher order, morally and physically. All food is permeated with the confidence that the future brings us unprecedented prospects, and we will become like these unknown aliens from outer space.

Rating: 8

I don’t know about anyone, but I really like the combination of paleontology and astronomy. Having discarded all sorts of ideological aspects, of which there are not so many, we have excellent humanistic fiction. albeit overly “Soviet”, overly “scientific”, nevertheless interesting and informative. the last paragraphs are simply beautiful and wise.

Rating: 8

The idea of humanoid aliens with developed social mechanisms is substantiated by the author and vividly described with purely Efremov’s artistic originality, which inspires confidence and awakens a craving for knowledge.

The scientist’s painstaking work, both in the office and at the excavations, is depicted simply and sincerely. Relationships with colleagues and students, the emergence of scientific thought like lightning from one word, the warmth of loved ones and friends splash out on the reader, forcing him to try on the image of a scientist, immersing him in the world of science, research, and new discoveries.

Rating: 10

Before us is one of the brightest works, one might say, not just a story by a novice author, but an imprint - a projection of his real experience, transferred to paper, reinterpreted with many assumptions and fantastic theories. As Ivan Antonovich himself expressed his position, this is the same fantastic theory that has no place in real life, but which can be so successfully and vividly told and proven in artistic language.

In turn, the story raises a rather bold but weighty assumption, supported and expressed in several issues:

1. Certain conditions and patterns for the emergence of life. The story quite sharply and categorically describes this problem, which is defined and supported by the theory of real scientists of that time, who believed (and modern ones still believe) that life in the universe can only arise under certain conditions, namely: certain conditions for the planet to move away from stars, a certain speed of rotation of the planet, a certain power of radiation from the star, as well as a favorable environment in the region of space where there is time for the development of the planet from a lifeless desert to green forests and oceans. Moreover, life itself is a unique set of chemical elements accumulated in sufficient quantities under certain conditions, which flares up as a rare source of chemical reactions. And in fact, this is one of the sound theories that breaks into smithereens any theological scheme, as well as any other, so colorfully shown in modern and not so modern films about how life arises according to someone’s will. This theory is a kind of sober, detailed fatalism among an ocean of inexplicable voluntarism.

2. Patterns of evolutionary paths. Life that arose under special conditions, fragile and unique on the scale of the universe, will not stand still, but will develop, but this development is subject to one specific law of the universe. And this law has one name, which, revealed in the thoughts of Charles Darwin, is clearly stated by Ivan Efremov, supported ideologically - LABOR. It was labor that made a man out of a monkey, contributed to the emergence of centers of thought and awareness of the surrounding reality, and it is this aspect that will be decisive for the evolution of life throughout the universe.

3. Regularities of the anatomical structure of living organisms. Efremov, like many other scientists of that time, insisted on his assumption of the uniformity of the body structure of our brothers in mind. A creature with intelligence and consciousness is a humanoid, which must have anatomical features similar to the human body structure. Moreover, this is explained by the conditions of the lifestyle of such a creature, namely: a head that is not burdened with horns and other additional functionality that interferes with the development of the brain; sensory organs that are located on the head to quickly transmit information to the brain, in particular the eyes themselves, which are set straight to cover a larger area of visual information; limbs, which in working conditions are clearly divided into legs for movement and arms for labor activities; the spinal column, which holds the head above the surface for greater perception and understanding of the surrounding reality, as well as the conditions of the environment itself, for example, the fruits of plants that contributed to the development of the maxillofacial structure, suppressing the face of a predator and herbivore. All these are quite weighty arguments, not just for a work of fiction, but even for real controversy in the scientific community.

4. Cause-and-effect relationships between chemical reactions (processes) and displacements of lithospheric plates and other disturbances of the earth’s crust, causing disasters on the surface of the planet. This theory is very closely related to the plot of the story itself, which reveals a rather serious part of the plot, but its main guess is that the chemical processes causing catastrophic consequences on the surface of the Earth are the nuclear decay of the isotopes of Uranium and Thorium, the only ones known (at that time ) science of unstable elements, which causes a significant release of energy. This energy, if we refer to the law of conservation of energy, does not pass without a trace for the inhabitants of the Earth. Also within the framework of this assumption, the theme of the value of energy itself, as a component of matter and setting it in motion, is revealed.

The value of this work lies in the ideas with which it is filled, albeit not always accurate and unproven. These ideas were not forgotten in war or famine (year of writing - 1944), they matured in the human consciousness and were nevertheless conveyed to society, albeit as a near-fantastic story, conveyed so that people continued to think and express their guesses and assumptions. This is just one of the many facets of Efremov’s creativity, contributing to the creation and achievement of invaluable knowledge.

Rating: 9

The story is easy to read and seems to consist of several independent plots, which for some unknown reason are combined: escaping from a tsunami at sea, a manuscript from a wrecked tank, stargazing, excavating dinosaur bones. The central theme is excavation. The theme of the thangka manuscript is somewhat related to this topic. The remaining topics are quite distant from the main one. One gets the impression that the story should have eventually turned into a novel - then such abstract, detailed plots would not have looked alien. But, apparently, there were no ideas for a full-fledged novel, so the existing developments were compiled into a story and published in this form.

In this story, the author again touches on his favorite topic - all living things develop according to the same laws, therefore, inevitably, alien intelligent beings as a whole must resemble humans. Another favorite theme of the author - the universality of the laws of beauty - is not mentioned here.

The final scene seemed a bit forced to me. The author really wanted to show the reader a colorful picture. For this purpose, the theme was again drawn upon, once revealed in the story “The Shadow of the Past”, about how pictures of the distant past are imprinted on ancient archaeological objects.

If you start getting acquainted with the author’s work with this story, then you will like the story. But if, like me, you read many other works by the author before, your impressions will be somewhat different. Unfortunately, repetitions of the same themes, the same selfless and enthusiastic mood of the author’s works begin to tire over time.

Rating: 8

There is an episode in Starships where scientists are trying to classify the species of an alien they have discovered and have the unfortunate luck of coming up with names for it in dead languages. Bestia astralis, therion celestis... - “Heavenly Beast”... - The author clearly tried to play a kind of “naming game” - and thereby prove that Latin and Ancient Greek are quite applicable for scientific systematization in the Galaxy. Just like the periodic table.

But overall, it’s a very successful technique for communicating realistic authenticity to fiction. And - the beginning of the author's thoughts about the hypothetical evolution of intelligent aliens. Here, for the first time, the author visibly presented the image of a non-humanoid (pre-humanoid) alien - a species that came to intelligence along a much shorter evolutionary path - tens of millions of years earlier than Homo sapiens. The “visualization” of the image of the alien alien was performed impeccably.

The author built the story on the combination of different hypotheses, real and fictitious facts: here is an unusual explanation of the “dinosaur cemeteries”, and the “calculation” of the hypothetical orbit of the Sun relative to other “stellar archipelagos” of the Galaxy... Combining together, all these ideas create a unique and sustainable combination is what we call “hard” SF.

An amazing detail is that over the almost seventy-year history of the work, this “cinematically” written story has never been skillfully and convincingly illustrated. However, let's hope that future illustrators will still succeed.

Rating: 9

Well, I found you! For a long time I tried to remember the name of the book and the author of the so-remembered science fiction work. And I couldn’t... It seems that I remember everything down to the smallest detail from childhood, but I can’t remember the work. But, fortunately, while studying wonderful Soviet science fiction, I met an equally wonderful writer - Efremov. And it was as if something had awakened in my memory, and I quickly scrolled down the page and looked for my work. I was so glad when I opened Starships and read the synopsis. Moral satisfaction washed over me and awakened a storm of memories of my first experience of reading science fiction. This is, undoubtedly, solid SF, which is unlikely to be interesting to a reader with little interest in science. But I fell in love with the story back in those childhood years, when I didn’t know that the line between reality and fantasy was so small. I really liked the idea itself - the convergence of galaxies and the ability of developed humanoids to fly to other star systems with minimal cost. And in general, the topic of “strangers”, even before the appearance of man, excited and excited me. I think I won't forget Starships for a very long time.

With all due respect to Efremov, this work of his simply makes me sick. Apparently, everything that I somehow do not accept in science fiction came together in it. Uninteresting, wooden heroes, first of all. Those that don’t have names or you have to look for them in the text. And so - Shatrov and Belsky. Intrusive morality presented head-on. Monotonous scientific descriptions, uninteresting (to me) and not relatable. Pathos that feels like iron on glass. And all this taken together, as for me, simply makes it difficult to think that the story was written in 1944, that we must make allowances for time, for censorship, for the war, finally. And on the significance of the work in Russian science fiction as such.

As a result, I simply don’t know how to evaluate this story... Its significance is too different from personal perception - as if a scythe had reached a stone. Still, managing to not master a fantasy text in childhood means something... In general, I won’t give it a rating. Because if the text had not belonged to Efremov’s pen... I’m afraid that I would have rated it zero.

"LIBRARY OF FICTION" in 24 volumes

Ivan EFREMOV - Star Ships. Andromeda Nebula

From fairy tales to predictions...

We first met in the office of the editor-in-chief of the Molodaya Gvardiya publishing house during the war years. When I appeared, the visitor politely stood up from the sofa, huge, with a shy smile, as if he was embarrassed by his height and because of this he even stuttered slightly. An open Russian face with eyebrows slightly raised to the temples and attentive, intelligent, penetrating eyes.

I heard so much then about the resounding success of his “Stories about the Extraordinary,” where not only the events, but also the people are unusual! A series of these stories under the general title “Five Points” was published in the magazine “New World” in 1944.

And let it seem amazing, even fantastic, but all the heroes of the stories - a young Red Army soldier, “son of the regiment”, sailor, long-distance navigator, mining engineer, geologist, paleontologist and writer - are all one and the same person - Ivan Antonovich Efremov, a talented scientist, the flagship of Soviet science fiction, who delighted me from his first steps in literature.

Efremov’s biography is the story of a stormy, exceptionally versatile, life full of fascinating events.

A graduate of a Red Army company, a twelve-year-old boy, during the Civil War, along with the smell of smoke from battles, he absorbed the romance of the revolution and acquired an irresistible thirst for knowledge.

A young sailor who sailed on the Caspian Sea and the Pacific Ocean, he was in love with the frantic wind, the sea, stormy or sleeping, but always beautiful, giving birth to courage and pride. The maritime theme will take its rightful place in his work.

Mining engineer. In order to satisfy his desire to penetrate the secrets of the earth's bowels, he graduates as an external student from the Mining Institute. A participant in many expeditions, he is busy not only searching for treasures hidden in the earth, but also looking for answers to the great questions of the origin of life.

Geologist and researcher of Siberia, Efremov pointed out the geographical similarity of some of its regions with areas of the African continent, anticipating the discovery of Siberian diamond placers similar to African deposits (the story “The Diamond Pipe”, 1944). In the thirties, he led the first expedition to survey the route of the now completed BAM, following the path of the current Komsomol construction teams.

Scientist-paleontologist, leader of more than forty expeditions in the Caucasus, Central Asia, Yakutia, Eastern Siberia, the Far East, as well as in the Mongolian People's Republic. There, in accordance with his scientific forecasts, in the Gobi Desert, one of the world's largest "dinosaur graveyards" was discovered. The result of the Mongolian expeditions of 1946-1949 was a wonderful book, “The Road of the Winds,” written on the basis of travel diaries, which successfully combines documentary, rigorous science with a popular form of presentation. Summarizing his findings and observations, Efremov created a new science - taphonomy - about the patterns of occurrence in the layers of the earth's crust of the remains of prehistoric animals and minerals of plant origin. For his major scientific work “Taphonomy and the Geological Chronicle” (1950), he was awarded the State Prize.

A historian, an expert on Africa and Hellenic culture, he looked into the distant past of Egypt or Hellas, into the palaces of the pharaohs and the secret sanctuaries of the priests (the dilogy “The Great Arc”, “The Razor’s Edge”, “Thais of Athens”).

And, finally, a world-famous writer, a thinker, with a keen perception of the world, with a depth of judgment about the essence of things. Of course, Efremov was first and foremost a scientist, and remained one in literature, with his artist’s imagination sometimes completely unexpectedly awakening thoughts even in areas of science that were distant to him.

Thus, according to corresponding member of the USSR Academy of Sciences Yu. N. Denisyuk, I. Efremov’s story “Shadow of the Past” gave him the idea of developing a method of volumetric holography. And many years later, when discussing the writer’s work, Monomakh’s hat, studded with precious stones, was displayed in the foyer, which in fact... was not there. This three-dimensional image seemed like a “shadow of the past.”

Yes, Efremov had something to say to readers. And he said a lot, but personally I remember his words: “What a ridiculous phase shift. When a person’s intellect reaches its greatest blossoming, knowledge and experience of life have been acquired, when it is possible to give more to people, physical strength leaves us...”

Efremov the writer was going to continue the novel “The Andromeda Nebula” by creating the story “The Heart of the Snake” as one of its continuing chapters. Efremov the scientist was preparing a scientific work “Palaeontology”. He left us too early, but he did it for ten.

He was noticed as a scientist in 1927, and as a writer in 1944. And the scientist, having come to literature, left a mark on it, like chemistry professor Alexander Borodin in music.

One of the most famous novels by I. Efremov, “The Andromeda Nebula” (1955-1956), was published in our country and abroad countless times. I remember some of my conversations with Ivan Antonovich at the time when his idea for a future novel was maturing.

At that time, I often wrote prefaces to the works of some Western science fiction writers published in our country and brought their latest editions from trips abroad.

Ivan Antonovich had a good command of the English language, and, in turn, closely followed foreign innovations. And we often discussed them and even gave a joint report on foreign science fiction at the All-Union Conference of Science Fiction Writers in 1958.

“I then read a dozen or two dozen novels by contemporary Western, mainly American, science fiction writers in a row. After that, I had a clear and persistent desire to give my own concept, my own artistic image of the future, the opposite of the interpretation of these books, which were philosophically and sociologically untenable,” Efremov recalled about that time.

He then decided to contrast his bright novel, looking into the communist future, with the “wild jungle” of impenetrable pessimism of American fiction, which predicted the death of civilization and the savagery of mankind, or frightened the average person on its pages with bloodthirsty monsters, predatory, poisonous plants, or imbued with the ideas of defending capitalism, as if would spread throughout the Galaxy.

I remember the feeling that gripped Ivan Antonovich and me when we first delved into these “literary thickets.” I wanted to turn away and leave, but Efremov called me to research and I penetrated with him into these “thickets,” which were worth delving into only in order to better understand those Americans who, with their imagination, are looking for a way out of the dense dead ends of their contemporary capitalist society. And some of our discoveries of that time became the property of Soviet readers: Ray Bradbury, Isaac Asimov, Hugo Gerinsbeck...

Current page: 1 (book has 5 pages in total) [available reading passage: 1 pages]

Ivan Efremov
Starships

CHAPTER ONE. AT THE THRESHOLD OF OPENING

– When did you arrive, Alexey Petrovich? A lot of people have asked you here.

- Today. But for everyone I’m not there yet. And please close the window in the first room.

The man who entered took off his old military cloak, wiped his face with a handkerchief, smoothed his light blond hair, which was very thin at the crown, sat down in a chair, lit a cigarette, stood up again and began to walk around the room, cluttered with cabinets and tables.

– Is it really possible? - he thought out loud.

He walked up to one of the cabinets and forcefully opened the high oak door. The white crossbars of the trays peeked out from the dark depths of the cabinet. On one tray sat a cubic box of yellow, shiny, bone-hard cardboard. Across the edge of the cube facing the door was a sticker of gray paper covered with black Chinese characters. Circles of postmarks were scattered across the surface of the box.

The man's long, pale fingers touched the cardboard.

– Tao Li, unknown friend! It's time to act!

Quietly closing the cabinet doors, Professor Shatrov took a worn briefcase and removed from it a notebook damaged by dampness in a gray granite binding. Carefully separating the sticky sheets of paper, the professor looked through the rows of numbers through a magnifying glass and from time to time made some calculations in a large notebook.

A pile of cigarette butts and burnt matches grew in the ashtray; the air in the office turned blue from tobacco smoke.

Shatrov’s unusually clear eyes sparkled under thick eyebrows. The thinker's high forehead, square jaws and sharply defined nostrils enhanced the overall impression of extraordinary mental strength, giving the professor the features of a fanatic.

Finally, the scientist pushed the notebook away.

– Yes, seventy million years! Seventy million! OK! - Shatrov made a sharp gesture with his hand, as if piercing something in front of him, looked around, squinted slyly and again said loudly: - Seventy million!.. Just don’t be afraid!

The professor slowly and methodically cleared away his desk, got dressed and went home.

Shatrov looked around at the “bronze pieces” placed in all corners of the room, as he called the collection of artistic bronzes, sat down at a table covered with black oilcloth, on which a bronze crab carried a huge inkwell on its back, and opened the album.

“I must be tired... And I’m getting old... My head is turning gray, balding and... stupid,” muttered Shatrov.

He had been feeling lethargic for a long time. The web of monotonous daily activities wove for years, tenaciously entangling the brain. The thought no longer took off, spreading its mighty wings far. Like a horse under a heavy load, she walked confidently, slowly and dejectedly. Shatrov understood that his condition was caused by accumulated fatigue. Friends and colleagues had long advised him to have fun. But the professor did not know how to rest or be interested in something extraneous.

“Leave it alone! I haven’t been to the theater for twenty years, I haven’t lived in a dacha since I was born,” he gloomily told his friends.

And at the same time, the scientist understood that he was paying for his long-term self-restraint, for the deliberate narrowing of his circle of interests, and was paying for the lack of strength and courage of thought. Self-restraint, while enabling greater concentration of thought, at the same time seemed to lock him tightly in a dark room, separating him from the diverse and wide world.

An excellent self-taught artist, he always found solace in drawing. But now even the cleverly conceived composition did not help him cope with his nervous excitement. Shatrov slammed the album shut, left the table and took out a pack of tattered sheet music. Soon the old harmonium filled the room with the melodious sounds of Brahms's intermezzo. Shatrov played poorly and rarely, but he always boldly took on things that were difficult to perform, since he played only alone with himself. Squinting myopically at the lines of music, the professor remembered all the details of his extraordinary recent trip for him, the office schema-monk.

A former student of Shatrov, who transferred to the astronomy department, developed an original theory of the motion of the solar system in space. Strong friendly relations were established between the professor and Victor (that was the name of the former student). At the very beginning of the war, Victor volunteered for the front and was sent to a tank school, where he underwent lengthy training. At this time he was also working on his theory. At the beginning of 1943, Shatrov received a letter from Victor. The student reported that he managed to finish his work. Victor promised to send a notebook with a detailed presentation of the theory to Shatrov immediately, as soon as he rewrote everything completely. This was the last letter Shatrov received. Soon his student died in a huge tank battle.

Shatrov never received the promised notebook. He undertook an energetic search that yielded no results, and finally decided that Victor’s tank unit was brought into battle so quickly that his student simply did not have time to send him his calculations. After the end of the war, Shatrov managed to meet with the major, the boss of the late Victor. The major took part in the very battle where Victor was killed, and was now receiving treatment in Leningrad, where Shatrov himself worked. A new acquaintance assured the professor that Victor’s tank, badly damaged by a direct hit, was not on fire and therefore there was hope of finding the papers of the deceased, if only they were in the tank. The tank, as the major thought, should still be standing at the battle site, since it was heavily mined.

The professor and the major made a joint trip to the site of Victor's death.

And now, from behind the lines of tattered notes, Shatrov saw images of what he had just experienced.

Shatrov obediently stopped.

Ahead, on a sunlit field, tall, lush grass stood motionless. Drops of dew sparkled on the leaves, on the fluffy caps of sweet-smelling white flowers, on the conical purple inflorescences of fireweed. Insects, warmed by the morning sun, buzzed busily over the tall grass. Further on, the forest, cut by shells three years ago, spread the shadow of its greenery, broken by uneven and frequent gaps, reminiscent of the slowly closing wounds of war. The field was full of lush plant life. But there, in the thick of the uncut grass, lurked death, not yet destroyed, not defeated by time and nature.

The rapidly growing grass hid the wounded ground, dug up by shells, mines and bombs, plowed by tank tracks, strewn with shrapnel and watered with blood...

Shatrov saw broken tanks. Half-hidden by weeds, they hunched gloomily among a flowering field, with streams of red rust on their torn armor, with their guns raised or lowered. To the right, in a small depression, three black cars stood, burnt and motionless. The German guns looked straight at Shatrov, as if dead malice even now forced them to furiously rush towards the white and fresh birch trees of the edge.

Further, on a small hill, one tank reared up, moving towards a car overturned on its side. Behind the thickets of fireweed, only part of its tower with a dirty white cross was visible. To the left, the wide spotted gray-red mass of the Ferdinand bent down the long barrel of the gun, its end buried in the thick grass.

The flowering field was not crossed by a single path, not a single trace of a person or animal was visible in the dense thicket of weeds, not a sound came from there. Only an alarmed jay was loudly chattering somewhere above and the noise of a tractor could be heard from afar.

The major climbed onto a fallen tree trunk and stood motionless for a long time. The major's driver was also silent.

Shatrov involuntarily remembered the Latin inscription, full of solemn sadness, usually placed in the old days above the entrance to the anatomical theater: “Hic Locus est, ubi mors gaudet sucurrere vitarn,” which translated means: “This is the place where death rejoices, helping life.”

A short sergeant, the head of a group of sappers, approached the major. His gaiety seemed inappropriate to Shatrov.

- Can we begin, Comrade Guard Major? – the sergeant asked loudly. -Where should we lead from?

- From here. “The major poked his stick into the hawthorn bush. - The direction is exactly towards that birch tree...

The sergeant and the four soldiers who came with him began clearing the mines.

– Where is that tank... Victor? – Shatrov asked quietly. – I only see German ones.

“Look here,” the major moved his hand to the left, “along this group of aspen trees.” Do you see a small birch tree on the hill? Yes? And to the right of her

Shatrov looked carefully. A small birch tree, which miraculously survived the battlefield, barely trembled with its fresh, tender leaves. And among the weeds, two meters away from her, protruded a pile of twisted metal, which from a distance seemed only a red spot with black gaps.

The sergeant who had finished his work approached them:

- Ready! The path was paved.

The professor and the major headed towards their desired goal. The tank seemed to Shatrov to resemble a huge, distorted skull, gaping with black holes of large gaps. The armor, bent, rounded and melted, was purple with bruises of rust.

The major, with the help of his driver, climbed onto the wrecked car, looked at something inside for a long time, sticking his head into the open hatch. Shatrov climbed up behind him and stood on the shattered frontal armor facing the major.

He freed his head, squinted in the light and said gloomily:

- There is no need for you to climb yourself. Wait, the sergeant and I will examine everything. If we don’t find it, then please, just to make sure.

The deft sergeant quickly dived into the car and helped the major get into it. Shatrov leaned anxiously over the hatch. Inside the tank, the air was stuffy, saturated with dust and faintly smelled of engine oil. The major lit a flashlight to be sure, although light penetrated into the car through the holes. He stood bent over, trying to determine in the chaos of twisted metal what had been completely destroyed. The major tried to put himself in the place of a tank commander, forced to hide a valuable thing in it, and began to consistently inspect all the pockets, nests and nooks and crannies. The sergeant entered the engine compartment, tossed and groaned there for a long time.

Suddenly the major noticed on the surviving seat a tablet tucked behind the pillow, near the crossbar of the backrest. He quickly pulled it out. The skin, white and swollen, turned out to be intact; Through the cloudy celluloid mesh, a map spoiled by mold could be seen. The major frowned, anticipating disappointment, and with effort unfastened the rusty buttons. Shatrov impatiently shifted from foot to foot. Under the map, folded several times, was a gray notebook bound in hard granite.

- Found it! - And the major handed the tablet into the hatch. Shatrov hastily pulled out a notebook, carefully opened the stuck sheets, saw rows of numbers written in Victor’s handwriting, and cried out with joy.

The major climbed out.

A light wind rose and brought the honey smell of flowers. A thin birch rustled and bent over the tank, as if in inconsolable sadness. White dense clouds slowly floated overhead, and in the distance, sleepy and measured, the cry of a cuckoo was heard...

...Shatrov did not notice how the door quietly opened and his wife entered. She looked anxiously with her kind blue eyes at her husband, frozen in thought over the keys.

- Shall we have lunch, Alyosha?

Shatrov closed the harmonium.

“You’re up to something again, aren’t you?” – the wife asked quietly, taking out plates from the buffet.

– I’m going the day after tomorrow to the observatory, to see Belsky, for two or three days.

- I don’t recognize you, Alyosha. You're such a homebody, all I see for months is your back bent over the table, and suddenly... What happened to you? I see this as an influence...

- Of course, Davydova? – Shatrov laughed. - Hey, no. Olyushka, he doesn’t know anything. After all, we haven’t seen him since forty-one.

– But you correspond every week!

- Exaggeration, Olyushka. Davydov is now in America, at a congress of geologists... Yes, by the way, I reminded you that he is returning in a few days. I'll write to him today.

The observatory where Shatrov arrived had just been rebuilt after its barbaric destruction by the Nazis.

The reception given to Shatrov was cordial and gracious. The professor was sheltered by the director himself, Academician Belsky, in one of the rooms of his small house. For two days, Shatrov looked closely at the observatory, getting acquainted with the instruments, star catalogs and maps. On the third day, one of the most powerful telescopes was free, and the night was also favorable for observations. Belsky volunteered to be Shatrov’s guide through those areas of the sky that were mentioned in Victor’s manuscript.

The premises of the large telescope looked more like the workshop of a large factory than a scientific laboratory. Complex metal structures were incomprehensible to Shatrov, who was far from technology, and he thought that his friend, Professor Davydov, a lover of all kinds of machines, would appreciate what he saw much better. This round tower contained several control panels with electrical appliances. Belsky's assistant confidently and deftly operated various switches and buttons. Large electric motors roared dully, the tower turned, the massive telescope, like a weapon with openwork walls, tilted lower towards the horizon. The hum of the engines died down and was replaced by a thin howl. The movement of the telescope became almost imperceptible. Belsky invited Shatrov to climb a light staircase made of duralumin. On the landing was a comfortable chair, screwed to the flooring and wide enough to accommodate both scientists. Nearby is a table with some cutlery. Belsky pulled back towards himself a metal rod equipped at the ends with two binoculars, similar to those that Shatrov constantly used in his laboratory.

“A device for simultaneous double observation,” Belsky explained. – We will both look at the same image obtained in the telescope.

- I know. The same devices are used by us biologists,” answered Shatrov.

“We now make little use of visual observations,” Belsky continued, “the eye soon gets tired and does not retain what is seen.” Modern astronomical work is all based on photographs, especially stellar astronomy, which you are interested in... Well, you wanted to look at some star first. Here is a beautiful double star - blue and yellow - in the constellation Cygnus. Adjust according to your eyes the same way as usual... However, wait. I’d better turn off the light completely - let your eyes get used to it...

Shatrov clung to the binocular lenses and skillfully and quickly adjusted the screws. In the center of the black circle, two stars very close to each other shone brightly. Shatrov immediately realized that the telescope was unable to magnify the stars, like the planets or the Moon, because the distances separating them from the Earth were so great. The telescope makes them brighter, more clearly visible, by collecting and concentrating the rays. Therefore, millions of faint stars are visible through a telescope, completely inaccessible to the naked eye.

In front of Shatrov, surrounded by deep blackness, burned two small bright lights of a beautiful blue and yellow color, incomparably brighter than the best precious stones. These tiny luminous points gave an incomparable feeling of both the purest light and immeasurable distance; they were plunged into the deepest abyss of darkness, pierced by their rays. For a long time Shatrov could not tear himself away from these lights of distant worlds, but Belsky, lazily leaning back in his chair, hurried him:

- Let's continue our review. It won't be long before there is such a beautiful night, and the telescope will be busy. You wanted to see the center of our Galaxy [The Galaxy is a giant star system (otherwise called the Milky Way), in which our Sun is located as an ordinary star. The Sun describes a giant

an orbit with an orbital period of approximately 220 million years.], that “axis” around which its “stellar wheel” rotates?

The engines roared again. Shatrov felt the movement of the platform. A swarm of dim lights appeared in the glasses of the binocular, Belsky slowed down the movement of the telescope. The huge machine moved imperceptibly and silently, and sections of the Milky Way in the region of the constellations Sagittarius and Ophiuchus slowly floated before Shatrov’s eyes.

Belsky’s short explanations helped Shatrov quickly navigate and understand what was visible.

The dimly glowing star mist of the Milky Way scattered into an innumerable swarm of lights. This swarm condensed into a large cloud, elongated and crossed by two dark stripes. In some places, individual rare stars, closer to the Earth, burned brightly, as if sticking out from the depths of space.

Belsky stopped the telescope and increased the magnification of the eyepiece. Now the field of view was almost entirely a star cloud - a dense luminous mass in which individual stars were indistinguishable. Millions of stars swarmed around her, condensing and thinning. At the sight of this abundance of worlds, not inferior to our Sun in size and brightness, Shatrov felt a vague oppression.

“In this direction, the center of the Galaxy,” Belsky explained, “is thirty thousand light years away.” Note1
A light year is a unit of distance in astronomy, equal to the number of kilometers traveled by a ray of light per year (9.46 X 10 to the 12th power of km, that is, almost 10 to the 13th power of km). Nowadays, as a unit of distance in astronomy, the parsec is equal to 3.26 light years.

The very center is invisible to us. Only recently was it possible to photograph the blurry, unclear outline of this nucleus in infrared rays. Here, to the right, is a black spot of monstrous size: this is a mass of dark matter covering the center of the Galaxy. But all its stars revolve around it, and the Sun flies around it at a speed of two hundred and fifty kilometers per second. If there were no dark curtain, the Milky Way here would be incomparably brighter, and our night sky would seem not black, but ashen... Let's move on...

In the telescope, black clearings appeared in swarms of stars, millions of kilometers long.

“These are clouds of dark dust and debris,” Belsky explained. – Individual stars shine through them with infrared rays, as established by photography on special plates... And there are many more stars that do not glow at all. We recognize the presence of only the nearest such stars by their emission of radio waves - that’s why we call them “radio stars”...

Shatrov was struck by one large nebula. Looking like a cloud of luminous smoke, dotted with the deepest black holes, it hung in space, like a cloud scattered by a whirlwind. Above and to the right of it were dim gray wisps that stretched out into the bottomless interstellar abysses. It was scary to imagine the enormous size of this cloud of dust matter, reflecting the light of distant stars. In any of its black holes, our entire solar system would drown unnoticed.

“Let’s now look beyond the boundaries of our Galaxy,” said Belsky.

Deep darkness appeared in front of Shatrov's field of vision. Barely perceptible light points, so weak that their light died in the eye, almost without causing visual sensation, were rarely, rarely encountered in the immeasurable depth.

– This is what separates our Galaxy from other stellar islands. And now you see star worlds similar to our Galaxy, extremely distant from us. Here, in the direction of the constellation Pegasus, the deepest parts of space known to us open up before us. Now we will look at the galaxy closest to us, similar in size and shape to our gigantic star system. It consists of myriads of individual stars of varying sizes and brightness, has the same clouds of dark matter, the same strip of this matter spreading in the equatorial plane, and is also surrounded by globular star clusters. This is the so-called M31 nebula in the constellation Andromeda. It is tilted obliquely towards us, so that we see it partly from the edge, partly from the plane...

Shatrov saw a pale glowing cloud in the shape of an elongated oval. Looking closely, he could make out luminous stripes arranged in a spiral and separated by black spaces.

In the center of the nebula the densest luminous mass of stars was visible, merging into one whole at a colossal distance. Subtle, spiraling outgrowths extended from it. Around this dense mass, separated by dark rings, there were stripes that were more sparse and dull, and at the very edge, especially at the lower border of the field of vision, the ring stripes broke into a series of rounded spots.

- Look, look! As a paleontologist, this should be especially interesting to you. After all, the light that now reaches our eyes left this galaxy a million and a half years ago. There was no other person on Earth!

– And this is the closest galaxy to us? – Shatrov was surprised.

- Well, of course! We already know those that are located at distances of the order of hundreds of billions of light years. For billions of years, light travels at a speed of ten trillion kilometers per year. Have you seen such galaxies in the constellation Pegasus...

- Incomprehensible! You don’t have to say, you still can’t imagine such distances. Endless, immeasurable depths...

Belsky showed Shatrov the night luminaries for a long time. Finally, Shatrov warmly thanked his star Virgil, returned to his room and went to bed, but for a long time he could not sleep.

Thousands of luminaries swarmed in my closed eyes, colossal star clouds floated, black curtains of cold matter, giant flakes of glowing gas...

And all this - stretching over billions and trillions of kilometers, scattered in a monstrous, cold void, separated by unimaginable spaces, in the pitchless darkness of which only streams of powerful radiation rush.

Stars are huge accumulations of matter, compressed by the force of gravity and, under the influence of exorbitant pressure, developing high temperatures. High temperature causes atomic reactions that increase the release of energy. In order for stars to exist in equilibrium without exploding, energy must be released into space in colossal quantities in the form of heat, light, and cosmic rays. And around these stars, as if around power stations running on nuclear energy, the planets they warm revolve.

In the monstrous depths of space, these planetary systems rush, together with myriads of single stars and dark, cooled matter, making up a huge, wheel-like system - a galaxy. Sometimes stars come together and then move apart again for billions of years, like ships of the same galaxy. And in an even larger space, individual galaxies are also like even larger ships, shining their lights on each other in an immeasurable ocean of darkness and cold.

A hitherto unknown feeling took possession of Shatrov when he vividly and vividly imagined the Universe with its terrifying coldness of emptiness, with masses of matter scattered in it, heated to unimaginable temperatures; I imagined distances inaccessible to any forces, the incredible duration of the processes taking place, in which grains of dust, like the Earth, have a completely insignificant significance.

And at the same time, proud admiration for life and its highest achievement

– with the human mind – drove away the terrible appearance of the stellar Universe. Life, fleeting, so fragile that it can only exist on planets similar to Earth, burns with tiny lights somewhere in the black and dead depths of space.

All the resilience and strength of life lies in its most complex organization, which we have barely begun to understand, an organization acquired over millions of years of historical development, the struggle of internal contradictions, the endless replacement of outdated forms with new, more perfect ones. This is the power of life, its advantage over inanimate matter. The formidable hostility of cosmic forces cannot interfere with life, which, in turn, gives birth to thought that analyzes the laws of nature and, with their help, defeats its forces.

Here on Earth and there, in the depths of space, life blossoms - a powerful source of thought and will, which will subsequently turn into a stream that spreads widely throughout the Universe. A stream that will connect individual streams into a mighty ocean of thought.

And Shatrov realized that the impressions he had experienced at night had again awakened the frozen power of his creative thinking. The key to this is the discovery contained in Tao Li’s box...

The senior mate of the ship "Vitim" casually leaned his elbows on the rails sparkling in the sun. The large ship seemed to be asleep on the rhythmically swaying green water, surrounded by slowly moving patches of light. Nearby, a long, high-bowed English steamer was smoking thickly, lazily nodding its two white crosses of massive masts.

The southern edge of the bay, almost straight and black with deep shadow, ended in a wall of red-violet mountains, furrowed with purple shadows.

The officer heard firm footsteps below and saw the massive head and broad shoulders of Professor Davydov on the bridge ladder.

- Why so early, Ilya Andreevich? – he greeted the scientist.

Davydov squinted, silently examined the sunny distance, and then looked at the smiling senior assistant:

– I want to say goodbye to Hawaii. Nice place, nice place... Are we leaving soon?

- The owner is not there - he is taking care of business on the shore. And so everything is ready. The captain will return - let's go right away. Straight home.

The professor nodded his head and reached into his pocket for cigarettes. He enjoyed the rest, the days of forced idleness, rare in the life of a true scientist. Davydov was returning from San Francisco, where he had been a delegate to a congress of geologists and paleontologists - researchers of the Earth's past.

The scientist wanted to make the return trip on his own Soviet steamship, and the Vitim turned up very opportunely. Even more pleasant was the visit to the Hawaiian Islands. During the stay, Davydov managed to get acquainted with the nature of this country, surrounded by the vast expanses of water of the Pacific Ocean. And now, looking around, he felt even greater pleasure from the knowledge of his imminent return to his homeland. Many interesting thoughts accumulated during the days of leisurely, quiet reflection. New considerations crowded into the scientist’s head, imperiously demanding a way out - verification, comparisons, further development. But this could not be done here, in the cabin of the ship: the necessary records, books, collections were not at hand...

Davydov stroked his temple with his fingers, which meant the professor was in difficulty or annoyed...

To the right of the protruding corner of the concrete pier, a wide avenue of palm trees suddenly began; their thick feathery crowns shone with light bronze, covering beautiful white houses with colorful flower beds. Further, on the ledge of the shore, the greenery of low trees approached the water. A blue boat with black stripes was barely rocking there. Several boys and girls in the boat exposed their tanned, slender bodies to the morning sun, laughing loudly before swimming. In the transparent air, the far-sighted eyes of the professor discerned all the details of the nearby shore. Davydov drew attention to a round flowerbed, in the center of which stood a strange plant: at the bottom, knife-like silver leaves stuck out like a thick brush; above the leaves, a red, spindle-shaped inflorescence rose almost to the height of a man.

-You don’t know what kind of plant this is? – the interested professor asked the senior assistant.

“I don’t know,” the young sailor answered carelessly. - I saw it, heard that it is considered a rarity among them... Tell me, Ilya Andreevich, is it true that you were a sailor in your youth?

Dissatisfied with the change in conversation, the professor frowned.

- Was. What does it matter now? - he muttered. - You're better...

Somewhere behind the buildings on the left, a whistle began to wail, echoing loudly across the calm water.

The senior mate immediately became wary. Davydov looked around in bewilderment.

The same peace of early morning hovered over the small town and the bay, wide open to the blue ocean. The professor turned his gaze to the boat with bathers.

A dark-skinned girl, obviously Hawaiian, straightened up in the stern, welcoming the Russian sailors with her hand raised high, and jumped. The red flowers of her bathing suit broke the emerald glassy water and disappeared. The light motorboat quickly rushed into the harbor. A minute later, a car appeared on the pier, the captain of the Vitim jumped out and ran to his ship. A string of flags rose and fluttered on the signal mast. The captain, out of breath, flew up to the bridge, wiping the sweat pouring down his face directly with the sleeve of his snow-white jacket.

- What's happened? – the senior assistant began. - I don’t understand this sig...

- Emergency! - the captain shouted. - Emergency! - and grabbed the handle of the machine telegraph. - Is the car ready?

The captain leaned over the speaking pipe and, after a short conversation with the mechanic, gave a series of abrupt orders:

- Everyone up! Batten down the hatches! Clear the deck! Give up the mooring lines!

– Russians, what shall you do? Note2
Russians, what are you going to do?

– suddenly a loudspeaker roared alarmingly from a nearby ship.

– Go ahead! Note3
Meet halfway!

– the Vitim captain immediately responded.

- Well! At full speed! Note4
Right! At full speed!

– the Englishman responded with more confidence.

The water rumbled dully under the stern, the Vitim's hull trembled, and the pier slowly floated to the right. The anxious running around on deck confused Davydov. He cast questioning glances at the captain several times, but he, absorbed in the maneuvering of the ship, seemed not to notice anything around him.

And the sea still splashed calmly and measuredly, not a single cloud was visible in the sultry and clear sky.

“Vitim” turned around and, picking up speed, moved towards the expanse of the ocean.

The captain took a breath and took a handkerchief out of his pocket. Looking around the deck with a keen eye, he realized that everyone was anxiously awaiting his explanation.

– There is a gigantic tidal wave from the nor’easter. I believe the ship’s only salvation is to meet her at sea, with the vehicles at full speed... Away from the shore!

He turned towards the receding pier, as if assessing the distance.

Davydov looked ahead and saw several rows of large waves rushing madly towards the ground. And behind them, as the main forces behind the advanced detachments, erasing the blue radiance of the distant sea, the flat gray hill of a giant rampart rushed heavily.

- Team take shelter below! – the captain ordered, sharply moving the telegraph handle.

The front waves grew and became sharper as they approached the ground. “Vitim” jerked its nose sharply, flew up and dived straight under the crest of the next wave. A soft, heavy slap echoed in the handrails of the bridge, held tightly in Davydov’s hands. The deck sank under the water, a cloud of sparkling water spray stood in front of the bridge like fog. A second later, “Vitim” surfaced, its nose again rushing upward. Powerful machines shook deep below, desperately resisting the force of the waves,

detaining the ship, driving it to the shore, trying to smash the Vitim on the hard chest of the earth.

Not a single spot of foam appeared on the cliff of the gigantic shaft, which rose with an ominous wheeze and became steeper. The dull shine of the water wall, rapidly approaching, massive and impenetrable, reminded Davydov of the steep basalt rocks in the mountains of Primorye. The wave, heavy as lava, rose higher and higher, obscuring the sky and the sun; its pointed top floated above the Vitim's forward mast. An ominous darkness thickened at the foot of the water mountain, in a deep black hole, into which the ship slid, as if obediently bowing under a mortal blow.

Starships Ivan Efremov

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Title: Starships

About the book “Starships” Ivan Efremov

All fans of high-quality science fiction will be interested in getting acquainted with the work written by Ivan Efremov called “Starships.” In addition to his writing, Efremov also excelled in science, and to be more precise, in paleontology. It is on scientific hypotheses that the plot of the above-mentioned book is built, making a bold assumption about aliens who visited Earth during the era of dinosaurs.

The two main characters of the novel are scientists Alexey Shatrov and Ilya Davydov. They both encountered strange mysteries and only with the help of each other will they be able to solve them. And it all started from the moment when Shatrov learned about an amazing discovery that raises questions. A dinosaur skull with a strange hole was found. Incredibly, it resembled nothing more than a bullet hole. But how could this even happen? After all, even people did not exist at that time, not to mention firearms. Having drawn conclusions, Shatrov came to a logical conclusion - aliens visited Earth at that time. But then another question arises. How were they able to travel an incredible distance and land on Earth? As it turned out, there was an opportunity. A former student of Shatrov, who died in the war, made some calculations that proved the theory that 70 million years ago the solar system was much closer to other galaxies.

To solve the mystery, Shatrov hurried to his friend Davydov. But he also plunged headlong into another mystery of antiquity. A truly large dinosaur cemetery has been found in Central Asia. They all fell ill at once. A logical question arose: why did this happen? Both scientists suggested that it was an earthquake, which released energy that killed the creatures. The second thought that came to their mind was again about aliens.

Perhaps this energy was the goal of extraterrestrial intelligence? Meanwhile, a strange relic was found, which the scientist initially mistook for a turtle shell. But that’s not all, because the book is so multifaceted that it can surprise you more than once.

Ivan Efremov wrote an interesting and exciting novel in an artistic style. The topic of aliens has always been and will be relevant, so both adults and children who are so interested in learning more about space and extraterrestrial beings want to read about it.

The book "Starships" is one of the few that can expand your horizons, despite the fact that it was written in the 20th century. Ivan Efremov has included so much interesting material in it that everyone who decides to pick up the book will certainly enjoy reading it.

On our website about books, you can download the site for free without registration or read online the book “Starships” by Ivan Efremov in epub, fb2, txt, rtf, pdf formats for iPad, iPhone, Android and Kindle. The book will give you a lot of pleasant moments and real pleasure from reading. You can buy the full version from our partner. Also, here you will find the latest news from the literary world, learn the biography of your favorite authors. For beginning writers, there is a separate section with useful tips and tricks, interesting articles, thanks to which you yourself can try your hand at literary crafts.