"Carol Emshwiller - All of Us Can Almost..." - читать интересную книгу автора (Emshwiller Carol)

"Take to the air along with us," I say. "Follow me up and up." I'm shameless. But I suspect it's only the
young that really believe. The older ones pretend to because of our beaks, because of the wind we can
stir upтАФour clouds of dust.

Still, I go on, "Check out my wingspan. Check out my evil eye. Listen. My voice."

They jump at my squawk.

They bring me food just to watch me tear at it. At least I'm good at that. I put on a good show. Every
creature backs away.

One of the young ones keeps wanting me to take him up. He won't stop asking. I say, "A sparrow could
do better." That's true, but he takes it as a joke. I say, "Why not at least ask a male."

"Males scare me."

Finally, just to shut him up, I say, "Yes, but not until the next section of time."

He runs off yelling, "Whee! Whee! Whee! She's taking me up!"

Now how will I get out of it? I only have from one moon to the other. But who knows? One of the big
males may have eaten him by that time. They don't care where their food comes from. He was right to be
scared.

Who knows how we lost our ability to fly? Maybe we're just lazy. Maybe we just don't exercise our
flying muscles. How could we fly, sitting around eating dead things all the time? If anyone can fly, it seems
to me more likely one of us smaller females could than a big male.

That little one keeps coming back and saying, "Really? Are you really going to take me up?"

And I keep saying, "I said I would, didn't I? When have any of us ever lied?" (Actually, when have we
ever told the truth?)

He keeps yelling back and forth to all who'll listen. The way he keeps on with it, I could eat him myself.

But we have to be careful. Sometimes those ground dwellers get together and decide not to feed us.
Whoever they don't feed always dies. They waddle around trying to get someone of us to share, but we
don't. We're not a sharing kind.

I should like these ground dwellers because of the food they bring, but I don't. I pretend to, just like they
pretend to believe us. They call us Emperor, Leader, Master, but why are they doing this? It could be a
conspiracy to keep us fat and lazy so we won't be lords of the sky anymore. So we're tamed and docile.
Maybe they started this whole thing, stuffing us with their leftovers. Maybe they're the real emperors of
the sky. Master of the sky though never in it any more than we are. At least they can climb trees.

I wonder what they want us for? Or maybe it's the best way to know where we are and what we're
doing.
Feed your enemies. Tame them.