"Asimov, Isaac - Cleon the Emperor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Asimov Isaac)

Raych's eyes widened and for a moment he sat there in appalled silence. Finally, he said, in a hoarse whisper, УShave my mustache?Ф

УClean as a whistle. No one would recognize you without it.Ф

УBut it can't be done. Like cutting yourЧlike castration.Ф

Seldon shook his head. УIt's just a cultural curiosity. Yugo is as Dahlite as you are and he wears no mustache.Ф

УYugo is a nut. I don't think he's alive at all except for his mathematics.Ф

УHe's a great mathematician and the absence of a mustache does not alter that fact. Besides, it's not castration. Your mustache will grow back in two weeks.Ф

УTwo weeks! It'll take two years to reach thisЧthisЧФ

He put his hand up as though to cover and protect it.

Seldon said inexorably, УRaych, you have to do it. It's a sacrifice you must make. If you act as my spy with your mustache, you mayЧcome to harm. I can't take that chance.Ф

УI'd rather die,Ф said Raych violently.

УDon't be melodramatic,Ф said Seldon severely. УYou would not rather die, and this is something you must do. However,Ф and here he hesitated, Уdon't say anything about it to your mother. I will take care of that.Ф

Raych stared at his father in frustration and then said, in a low and despairing tone, УAll right, Dad.Ф

Seldon said, УI will get someone to supervise your disguise and then you will go to Wye by air. ЧBuck up, Raych, it's not the end of the world.Ф

Raych smiled wanly, and Seldon watched him leave, a deeply troubled look on his face. A mustache could easily be regrown, but a son could not. Seldon was perfectly well aware that he was sending Raych into danger.


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9.

We all have our small illusions and Cleon I, Emperor of the Galaxy, King of Trantor, and a wide collection of other titles that, on rare occasions, could be called out in a long sonorous roll, was convinced that he was a person of democratic spirit.

It always angered him when he was warned off a course of action by Demerzel, or, later, by Seldon, on the grounds that such action would be looked on as tyrannical or despotic.

He was not a tyrant or despot by disposition, he was certain; he only wanted to take firm and decisive action.

He spoke many times with nostalgic approval of the days when Emperors could mingle freely with their subjects, but now, of course when their history of coups and assassinations, actual or attempted, had become a dreary fact of life, the Emperor had had to be shut off from the world.

It is doubtful that Cleon, who had never in his life met with people except under the most constricted of conditions, would really have felt at home in off-hand encounters with strangers, but he always imagined he would enjoy it. He was grateful, therefore, for a rare chance of talking to one of the underlings on the grounds, to smile, and to doff the trappings of Imperial rule for a few minutes. It made him feel democratic.

There was this gardener whom Seldon had spoken of, for instance. It would be fitting, rather a pleasure, to reward him belatedly for his loyalty and bravery, and to do so himself rather than leaving it to some functionary.

He therefore arranged to meet him in the spacious rose garden which, at this time, was in full bloom. That would be appropriate, Cleon thought, but, of course, they would have to bring the gardener there first. It was unthinkable for the Emperor to be made to wait. It is one thing to be democratic; quite another to be inconvenienced.

The gardener was waiting for him among the roses, his eyes wide, his lips trembling. It occurred to Cleon that it was possible no one had told the fellow the exact reason for the meeting. Well, he would reassure him in kindly fashionЧexcept that, now he came to think of it, he could not remember the fellow's name.