"Carol Emshwiller - Gliders Though They Be" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emshwiller Carol)

Gliders Though They Be

by Carol Emshwiller

They live, as we do, by the shadows, by the warmth of stones on sunny days, by fissures in rocks. They
scramble, skulk, and skitterтАФas we do. They die, as we do, by the sky, by the trees. Live by black
brush, prickly poppies. Die by the drop and dive and skim of the masters from the air.

You'll be right in among them, doing everything their way. You'll be trying to like their kinds of food.
You'll be spitting out pin feathers. In spite of yourself you'll say, Oh, oh, oh. And you'll have to sing their
songs of self-satisfaction, but don't forget you're one of Us.

Find the ins and outs of their warrens. The windings and dead ends, the escape hatches. Know their
ditches, the views from their hills тАж

They call themselves The Creatures, as if we weren't. They call their section of the land The Place as if
our place wasn't as much a place as theirs. They say they live at the center of the world as though we
don't.

That's all right; let them think what they have to think.

Love your enemies. You'll have to. Hide your distaste. But you won't have to kiss them unless you want
to. Though sometimes our kind does fall in love with their kind, so soft and pink, so thin, so close at
hand, as they will be to you. Our kind always thinks such love is a mistake, but I say, all the better.
(You'll be thinking your new babies will take to the air along with theirs. Don't count on it.)

Though they keep calling it that, remember they can't fly. It's only gliding. And their wings... They aren't
really wings, just a few feathers in with their fur. But they're the big problem. Or, rather, the problem is us
тАж that we have none. In all other ways we're exactly like them. They crawl around just like we do. Rush
from hideout to hideout, all the time looking up to investigate the sky. They squeak out warnings just like
we do. We might as well be them, though they wouldn't have us.

Bring a sharp knife. Not to killтАФof course notтАФbut to тАж you know. Be sure to get them just before
they're fledged. After that, success will be unlikely. Every single one you cut will be a blow in our favor.

It all depends on them; everything depends on them; it always has. Though now everything depends on
you.




┬╖┬╖┬╖┬╖┬╖


We can't imagine what our nubs are for except to show we're kin with them. We never fledge. Maybe
we haven't tried hard enoughтАФhaven't spent enough time dropping out of trees or leaping after
grasshoppers. But who among our young ones hasn't broken a leg from trying something foolish that
those others can do without even thinking.
Perhaps it's all in the mind, and we're not thinking the right thoughts. Or perhaps it's fear of falling that
forces them to fledge. Maybe they push their little ones off lower branchesтАФpry their toes up one by one