"Avram Davidson - Bumberboom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Avram)

"Do you recall, Prince of Qanaras," he began-- Mallian noted his own promotion in rank but showed
nothing on his face-- "Do you recall what said the Dwerfy constable?... as say they all, of course... that
before the Great Gene Shift all men were of their dwerfish size?"
Mallian said, "I do recall. What of it?"
Slowly Durraneth said, "This great image is hollow. There are passages within. But the spaces seem
exceedingly small. Do you suppose-- "
"Do I suppose that this evidences a possible truth to the absurd Bandy boast? Never! As well declare
that the gigantic statue demonstrates that the original form of mankind was that of the race of the
gigants!"
Durraneth nodded slowly. Then his eyes moved from gigantic statue to gigantic gun and back once
more. "I wish..." he began. "I wish I knew what it had held in its hand..." he said. "Oh, I do not know, of
course, that it had held anything in its hand. It has an arm, it must have had a hand.... No consequence; it
was a mere sudden fancy, of no rational importance."
But Mallian had now a question of his own. He pointed down into the pit, past a fallen tree, to where
four Elvers stood regarding the newly-found wonder and a fifth stood upon its face. On the brim stood a
box of strange sort, from which wires led down to the body of the statue. "What is that?" he asked.
Durraneth shrugged. "An engine... a toy, really. It simulates a magnetical current. Really, it tells us
nothing-- save only that the entire figure seems to be made of metal. All of it! Incredible. No, I suppose
you are correct. About the original stature of man. The matter, I must suppose, remains as before..." For
yet another moment he stood there, musing. Then he said, "When you are ready, Prince, to pose your
question, we will be ready to serve you in seeking its answer. Do not tarry too long among the morose
and barbarous folk of Nor. Fare you well, Fare you well."
***


The morose and barbarous folk of Nor had for the most part, forewarned by the echoing roar of
Bumberboom's sole shot and, further, by the sight of it being toiled across the Trans-Rift Road, fled into
the raddled ruins where it was hardly practicable to follow them. They had taken much of their substance
with them, but the Crew were experienced foragers; noses keen as dogs', they soon sniffed out food and
even sooner devoured it.
Mallian had no desire to go groping about in the ruins after anyone. He consulted the map--
Naccanath still held the leathern tube, but Mal held the map, whether Naccanath knew it or not-- and
consulted Zembac Pix as well. "I would that I had reflected to demand, hem a hum, to request horses of
the Elvers. Doubtless they could be trained to pull the gun."
The pothecary's eyes narrowed beneath their bony brows, and he smiled a knowing smile. "Horses
will come later," he said. "Horses... and many other things..."
Getting Bumberboom up a hill had to come first. After that would come supplies-- not hastily
proffered or hastily seized to be hastily gobbled, but efficiently levied, to be efficiently distributed. And
efficiently consumed? Not all of them. The key word was surplus. Surplus of commodity meant trade,
which meant wealth and power. One area of farms, and towns to start with. Power firmly established
there meant a fulcrum firmly established there. And with a fulcrum once established, what might not
leverage do?
But haste was not to be indulged in. Leaving Zembac Pix in charge of gun and crew, Mal set off to
scout out the land, with a particular emphasis on hills. The first one he came to overlooked, to be sure,
fine fat fields and no less than four towns, all of them prosperous, but the roads leading up the hill were
too narrow by far to admit of Bumberboom's huge carriage being taken up. Widening would be a matter
of months. Not to be thought of. The second hill was easy of access but looked down on one small town
only, and that none too favorsome in its appearance. He sighed, pressed on. A third hill was well-located
but culminated in a peak of rocky scarps such as could afford abiding-place only to birds. A fourth... A
fifth...