"Thomas A. Easton - Unto the Last Generation" - читать интересную книгу автора (Easton Thomas A)

UNTO THE LAST GENERATIONUNTO THE LAST GENERATION
by Tom Easton
"His sidekick was a tombstone . . ."
Tom Easton
Dedicated to:
Nephew Caleb
Niece and Goddaughter Miriam
_"We stand at a unique moment in human history. Though unaware, we now manage
the Earth. We have the power to make or unmake a planet. We can see the
future.
Before the battle of Sedan in 1870, the French general, Ducrot, surveyed the
end
of what was called the Liberal Empire, a great, prosperous state. His
despairing
comment as he rolled up the map on his nation could fit us all today: 'Nous
sommes dans un pot de chambre, et nous y serons emmerdes.' Our environmental
laws and regulations today, for the most part, are simply exercises in
putting
up umbrellas as the first dollops fall into the chamber pot. Yet it is by no
means too late to climb out of the pot. Perhaps it might even profit us to do
so."
-- E. G. Nisbet, Leaving Eden: To Protect
and Manage the Earth (New York:
Cambridge University Press, 1991), p. xiv._
CHAPTER 1
The bearded man stood by the edge of the clearing, staring at a small house
whose weathered boards still clung to scattered flecks of paint. A blotched
leather cloak hung from his shoulders to his ankles. It was open in front,
but
its folds were capable of hiding many things.
The man leaned on a stick and scratched in the hair that covered his cheek as
if
it itched. Then he pushed back his broad-brimmed leather hat and scratched at
his scalp. His hair was long and gray and stringy. A red, scaly rash was
visible
on his wrists and cheekbones.
"Hey the house!"
The only answer was that a pair of starlings took flight from the edge of the
garden patch beside the house. A sparrow halted its repetitive song. A blue
jay
squawked in the trees beyond the clearing.
More conversationally, the man said, "It's going to rain like hell, you know.
I'd like to be indoors when it comes."
The house was built low, with only two steps lifting its entrance above the
ground. Now the door opened slowly to reveal a second man, clean-shaven,
hollow-cheeked, and holding an axe. His thin hair was tied back in a short
ponytail. He too had a rash, and he wore a suspicious scowl.
The householder gave the dark and roiling clouds above their heads a glance.
"They's a few empty houses 'round here."
"So I'd like some company." He began to walk across the clearing, gesturing