The Best of Murray Leinster

Murray Leinster
The Best of Murray Leinster (1978)

Publicada após a morte de Murray Leinster, esta antologia é por certo a melhor homenagem que se poderia fazer ao escritor norte-americano. A primeira edição surgiu na Grã-Bretanha no final de 1976, mas aqui refere-se a edição americana que contém mais, e diferentes, contos que a edição original, com um novo prefácio, de John J. Pierce. The Best of Murray Leinster reúne 13 contos em ordem cronológica — três datados entre 1934 e 1935, dois de 1951 e 1956, os restantes entre 1945 e 1949 — a grande maioria publicados na Astounding, em plena Golden Age da FC. Uma boa parte têm por tema o primeiro contacto (um deles intitula-se precisamente "First Contact", considerado um marco na literatura de FC), e envelheceram surpreendentemente bem. Sem fazer qualquer destaque, pois qualquer deles merece uma leitura atenta, o excerto abaixo pertence a "The Ethical Equations", de 1945, presente nas duas edições.

The thing from outer space was fifteen hundred feet long, and upward of a hundred and fifty feet through at its middle section, and well over two hundred in a curious bulge like a fish's head at its bow. There were odd, gill-like flaps just back of that bulge, too, and the whole thing looked extraordinarily like a monster, eyeless fish, floating in empty space out beyond Jupiter. But it had drifted in from somewhere beyond the sun's gravitational field—its speed was too great for it to have a closed orbit—and it swung with a slow, inane, purposeless motion about some axis it had established within itself.
The little spacecruiser edged closer and closer. Freddy Holmes had been a pariah on the Arnina all the way out from Mars, but he clenched his hands and forgot, his misery and the ruin of his career in the excitement of looking at the thing.
"No response to signals on any frequency, sir," said the communications officer, formally. "It is not radiating. It has a minute magnetic field. Its surface temperature is just about four degrees absolute."
The commander of the Arnina said, "Hrrrmph!" Then he said, "We'll lay alongside." Then he looked at Freddy Holmes and stiffened. "No," he said, "I believe you take over now, Mr. Holmes."
Freddy started. He was in a very bad spot, but his excitement had made him oblivious of it for a moment. The undisguised hostility with which he was regarded by the skipper and the others on the bridge, brought it back, however.
"You take over, Mr. Holmes," repeated the skipper bitterly. "I have orders to that effect. You originally detected this object and your uncle asked Headquarters that you be given full authority to investigate it. You have that authority. Now, what are you going to do with it?"
There was fury in his voice surpassing even the rasping dislike of the voyage out. He was a lieutenant commander and he had been instructed to take orders from a junior officer. That was bad enough. But this was humanity's first contact with an extrasolar civilization, and Freddy Holmes, lieutenant junior grade, bad been given charge of the matter by pure political pull.
Freddy swallowed.
"I . . . I—" He swallowed again and said miserably, "Sir, I've tried to explain that I dislike the present set-up as much as you possibly can. I . . . wish that you would let me put myself under your orders, sir, instead of—"
"No!" rasped the commander vengefully. "You are in command, Mr. Holmes. Your uncle put on political pressure to arrange it. My orders are to carry out your instructions, not to wet-nurse you if the job is too big for you to handle. This is in your lap! Will you issue orders?"

Li anteriormente:
A Nave Sideral (1949)