"Brad Ferguson - To Tell The Troof" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ferguson Brad)

 тАЬPerhaps the native religion is too strong?тАЭ Edith hazarded.
тАЬIs none,тАЭ Zweebl stated flatly. тАЬDidnтАЩt have one before Father Mort
come. Still donтАЩt. New thing for us. Planets, stars in sky, fish in sea,
mystery of creation. Jesus dies, redeems Terra. Who cares? Phooey. Eat,
drink, be merry, for tomorrow we do it all over again, that what I say.тАЭ
Edith looked at Zweebl. тАЬThe Troof arenтАЩt religious? IsnтАЩt that supposed
to be unusual for a sentient race?тАЭ
тАЬHow I know?тАЭ Zweebl asked, eyes wide. тАЬOnly know two such, and from
what I see, it fifty-fifty.тАЭ
тАЬThatтАЩs my assistant talking,тАЭ McAleer said agreeably, тАЬand, yes, the
lack of any native religion here is highly unusual тАФ unprecedented, IтАЩd say.
Not only are the Troof uninterested in my religion, but they donтАЩt have any
use for anything I have to offer тАФ my medical skills, agricultural
knowledge, or anything else. IтАЩm stalled, and have been since I arrived
here.тАЭ
тАЬBut isnтАЩt there anything else you can do?тАЭ
McAleer sighed. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. тАЬIf there is, I canтАЩt see it.
Look, Edith, IтАЩve been a missionary all my adult life. Henderson is my third
post. I founded missions on two other planets, got them going, and passed
them on to ordained native assistants after a few years. All still exist, all
are still successful. But on Henderson, IтАЩm a total flop. No one here is
interested in anything I might have to say. Even Zweebl is only here for the
pay.тАЭ
тАЬYou got it,тАЭ Zweebl chirped.
McAleer shrugged. тАЬAnyway, IтАЩm not sure I can take this state of affairs
for much longer. I might just give up.тАЭ
тАЬHmmm,тАЭ Edith said. тАЬIтАЩm not sure тАФ no, nothing.тАЭ
тАЬWhat is it?тАЭ
тАЬWell ... IтАЩm not sure IтАЩm in favor of the mission thing, Father. I mean,
why not leave the natives alone? I donтАЩt want to seem ungrateful, but тАФ тАЭ
тАЬNo, itтАЩs a good question,тАЭ McAleer said. He sighed. тАЬThe basic reason,
which you can accept or not, is that every being has a soul to save.тАЭ
тАЬAnd itтАЩs up to Terrans to save them?тАЭ
тАЬBasically speaking, yes. Orthodox Catholic Terrans and their ordained
converts, that is.тАЭ
Edith was unconvinced. тАЬOh. Well, thatтАЩs a little too dogmatic for me.тАЭ
 McAleer waved a hand. тАЬLook, Edith, we donтАЩt threaten anyone with
hell; we donтАЩt even preach much. We lead by example. WeтАЩre trained to
heal, to teach, to care. It does some good in the universe, or should. But I
havenтАЩt contributed a damned thing to anyoneтАЩs physical or spiritual
well-being here on Henderson, and IтАЩm very tired of that.тАЭ
тАЬMore coffee?тАЭ asked Zweebl politely.
Two weeks later, a stronger and more rested Edith had already taken to
long walks along the narrow streets of Trooftown, something McAleer did
only occasionally. A ship might or might not call at the field within the
year. Until then, Edith Manus Daney тАФ broke, jobless and with no
prospects in sight other than the pallid ones afforded by St. PolycarpтАЩs тАФ
was determined to do what she could to survive in as much style as she
could manage on a backwater planet such as Henderson.
It also bothered Edith that she owed McAleer rather a large debt, and