"Sonya Dorman - The Sons of Bingaloo" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dorman Sonya)

The Sons of Bingaloo

Creativity
takes place in the mind.
- - A creative person
must be, above all,
a person.
SONYA DORMAN
The last of the triple moons was still in the sky at dawn, when Pettrey woke. A fine, greenish haze
predicted a good day, one of clear light. He stretched luxuriously, though he must get up quickly, eat
some excellent nourishment, and be on his way. It was licensing week.
The first two days, given over to apprentices, had passed, while Pettrey took his time, took walks,
admired rivers, and allowed his mind to go easy. He had suffered the hours of anxiety, as he did every
year, and put them behind him. Very likely they would reappear in another form, later on; he used
everything in one way or another.
After he had eaten, Pettrey put a fairly new cloak over his shoulders, and left home. The rivers were
running silver green in the park where he lived this year. Although it was so early in the day, the roads
were busy. Many shops closed during the mornings of licensing week, for apprentices earned their bread
at any other trade until the license was granted them, and during this week, few customers came to the
stores. It was much more amusing, if a person was free, to attend one of the many tests.
The huge rotunda of performing arts rose in the near distance; Pettrey could see the doorway was
clogged with spectators, trying to get in early for good seats. He sighed, and smiled a little. It was good
to be alive. Even for those scared apprentices, the people turned out in rousing crowds. The performing
artists, unlike Pettrey, depended on the presence of responsive crowds.
As the road widened, he joined and passed groups of people. There, up ahead, he saw the figured
gray cloak of Massony, come such a surprising long way since last yearтАЩs granted license. Pettrey found
it difficult to squeeze the anxiety, even jealousy, from his heart, but managed to do so, as he came
alongside the other man.
тАЬAh!тАЭ Massony said, looking around. He liked to greet people with this slightly portentous sound, and
it nearly always worked; they would be silent, hang on, wait for some revelation.
тАЬLovely day,тАЭ Pettrey said, and walked on just enough faster to get ahead and blend with the crowds.
The building he went to was small and looked insignificant, for his work demanded isolation rather than
an audience. There was the check-in booth, where he put down his now expired license, signed his
name, was told he was third, and took a seat to wait. Massony did not come in while Pettrey waited, so
he supposed the younger man was entertaining people outside, in that way he had.
тАЬAh!тАЭ An important, breathy sound, and everyone would hang oh, waiting for Massony to give them
something they could pass around to less lucky friends.
Massony was only a few years younger than Pettrey, but had started late, having spent his early years
in agriculture, and come only recently to the arts. Pettrey had often thought that might account for his
rapid rise to popular proficiency. The genuine force of MassonyтАЩs work must have been within him all
those years, like an egg long incubated before the phoenix was hatched.
No, thatтАЩs not right, Pettrey complained to himself, folding the cloak over his knees, keeping his eyes
on the door where he would enter. That bird never hatched from an egg, Pettrey reminded himself. He
sighed deeply. He had spent a long apprenticeship, had come to this building many times, and had failed
many times, before his license was granted. Different ways for different men, he thought. Not receiving a
license didnтАЩt prevent a person from singing or playing the violin, of course; it simply kept him out of
public performances and prevented him from taking money under false pretenses.
A perfectly beautiful young woman came in and sat down in the waiting room. Pettrey looked at her
with pleasure. But she said, тАЬThe Master is outside, talking with people.тАЭ
Good God, Pettrey thought: the Master! It was an obsolete term, and he had never heard it used by