"Carol Emshwiller - Water Master" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emshwiller Carol)

anyway. Except so is Amos Acularius.



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There hasn't been much snow on the mountains this year. They say our Lake of the Mountain is low.
Many of the ditch gates are shut in order for the lake to fill. Even so it isn't filling. Onions and rutabagas
and apple trees are dying. Perhaps my tepary beans will save us all.

Nobody is supposed to go up there. That was decided a long time ago when the first Water Master was
appointed. (I say appointed, but everybody else says chosen by the river.) That's his private place where
he can work water wonders in seclusion. Bring a wife up and live his own life. Have his little Water
Master children. Little skinny mountain goat kind of children, I suppose, brought up on the cliffs.

But something is wrong. Nobody has seen Amos Acularius for several days. They've formed a group to
go up. A sort of posse. They're angry. They think maybe it's a lie that the lake is low. Maybe there's
plenty of water but Amos Acularius has been persuaded to let our water fall over to the other side of the
mountain into some neighboring town or other we don't know anything about. There's talk of bringing up
a bomb.

Even if he is skinny and ugly (though I've hardly seen more of his face than his unshaven bony jaw with
deep lines at the sides) I wouldn't want him hurt. I'm going up by myself. Secretly. And before that posse
goes. They're still getting themselves together. Arguing. Even though they're angry, nobody wants to go
up this time of year. It's not only harvest time, but this is the season for mountain storms. I wonder if any
of them will actually get around to going up? But I'm going. I'll hide and watch what happens. I'll be there
before any of them even starts. All I need is lunch and a sweater. It's a perfect day for a climb.



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As I go I keep looking back to see if anybody has started up behind me yet. Nobody has. I like looking
back at our little town, nestled in close along the river bank, even though that river is dangerous. Folks
have drowned. Folks have been swept awayтАФGod knows where. I won't be able to see it much longer.
A fog is rolling inтАФup here, of course not down there. It's all blue sky down there. I've seen these clouds
before, hanging around the mountains. Pretty soon the tops will be hidden from everybody down there
and I'm about to be swallowed up in it. I won't get lost. It's easy to see when I'm on the path, and all
along I've been listening to our waterfall. I could follow by the noise alone.

When I'm most of the way up (I hope most of the way, I've climbed for three hours) the fog begins to
seem a little wispier, I see тАж I think I see Amos A. in the smoky distance.

I feel my heart lurchтАФin fact my whole body lurches, just from thinking it might be him.

I follow, well behind. Luckily the fog is still fairly thick. I climb right on through it, up and out the other