"Avram Davidson - The House the Blakeneys Built" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Avram)

sort had been slapped onto it, but this had mostly fallen out, its only
lasting effect being to deface the painting further.

"Do you suppose that the two big figures could be the Captains?" Mikicho
asked, for Robert had told them what Old Whitey Bill had said.

"I would guess so. They look grim and purposeful тАж When was the persecution of
the polygamists, anybody know?"

Current social histories had little to say about that period, but the four
finally agreed it had been during the Refinishing Era, and that this had been
about six hundred years ago. "Could this house be that old?" Shulamith asked.
"Parts of it, I suppose, could be. I'll tell you what I think, I think that
those two Captains set out like ancient patriarchs with their wives and their
families and their flocks and so on, heading for somewhere where they wouldn't
be persecuted. And then they hitтАФwell, whatever it was that we hit. And wound
up here. Like us."

Mikicho said, in a small, small voice, "And perhaps it will be another six
hundred years before anyone else comes here. Oh, we're here for good and
forever. That's sure."

They walked on, silent and unsure, through endless corridors and endless
rooms. Some were clean enough, others were clogged with dust and rubbish, some
had fallen into ruin, some were being used for barns and stables, and in one
was a warm forge.

"Well," Robert said at last, "we must make the best of it. We cannot change
the configurations of the universe."

Following the sounds they presently heard brought them to the washroom,
slippery, warm, steamy, noisy.

Once again they were surrounded by the antic Blakeney face and form in its
many permutations. "Washtime, washtime!" their hosts shouted, showing them
where to put their clothes, fingering the garments curiously, helping them to
soap, explaining which of the pools were fed by hot springs, which by warm and
cold, giving them towels, assisting Shulamith carefully.
"Your world house, you, a hey," began a be-soaped Blakeney to Ezra; "bigger
than this? No."

Ezra agreed, "No."

"YourтАФBlakeneys? No. Mum, mum. Hey. Family? Smaller, a hey?"

"Oh, much smaller."

The Blakeney nodded. Then he offered to scrub Ezra's back if Ezra would scrub
his.