"Carol Emshwiller - Boys" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emshwiller Carol)

Boys
A short story
by Carol Emshwiller


We need a new batch of boys. Boys are so foolhardy, impetuous, reckless, rash. They'll lead the
way into smoke and fire and battle. I've seen one of my own sons, aged twelve, standing at the top of the
cliff shouting, daring the enemy. You'll never win a medal for being too reasonable.

We steal boys from anywhere. We don't care if they come from our side or theirs. They'll forget soon
enough, which side they used to be on, if they ever knew. After all, what does a seven-year-old know?
Tell them this flag of ours is the best and most beautiful, and that we're the best and smartest, and they
believe it. They like uniforms. They like fancy hats with feathers. They like to get medals. They like flags
and drums and war cries.

Their first big test is getting to their beds. You have to climb straight up to the barracks. At the top
you have to cross a hanging bridge. They've heard rumors about it. They know they'll have to go home to
mother if they don't do it. They all do it.

You should see the look on their faces when we steal them. It's what they've always wanted. They've
seen our fires along the hills. They've seen us marching back and forth across our flat places. When the
wind is right, they've heard the horns that signal our getting up and going to bed and they've gotten up and
gone to bed with our sounds or those of our enemies across the valley.

In the beginning they're a little bit homesick (you can hear them smothering their crying the first few
nights) but most have anticipated their capture and look forward to it. They love to belong to us instead
of to the mothers.

If we'd let them go home they'd strut about in their uniforms and the stripes of their rank. I know
because I remember when I first had my uniform. I was wishing my mother and my big sister could see
me. When I was taken, I fought, but just to show my courage. I was happy to be stolenтАФhappy to
belong, at long last, to the men.



┬╖┬╖┬╖┬╖┬╖



Once a year in summer we go down to the mothers and copulate in order to make more warriors. We
can't ever be completely sure which of the boys is ours and we always say that's a good thing, for then
they're all ours and we care about them equally, as we should. We're not supposed to have family
groups. It gets in the way of combat. But every now and then, it's clear who the father is. I know two of
my sons. I'm sure they know that I, the colonel, am their father. I think that's why they try so hard. I
know them as mine because I'm a small, ugly man. I know many must wonder how someone like me got
to be a colonel.
 (We not only steal boys from either side but we copulate with either side. When I go down to the
villages, I always look for Una.)

"TO DIE FOR YOUR TRIBE IS TO LIVE FOREVER." That's written over our headquarters