"Eric Flint - The Philosophical Strangler" - читать интересную книгу автора (Flint Eric)

achieving Torpor, whereupon I will naturally dispose of these intrinsically worthless comforts."
"What is this Torpor you seek?" asked Greyboar.
"To a question, I respond with a question. What is the fundamental law of the universe?"
"He's stalling for time, Greyboar!" Sure enough, I was tongue-tied. A half hitch.
Greyboar turned back to the King. "Conservation of matter and energy."
His Highness began to sneer, thought better of it.
"To be sure, but the conservation of matter and energy is at bottom a mere statement of
equivalence. From the ethical standpoint, a miserable tautology."
The strangler scratched his chin. "I admit that it does not appear to bear upon one's moral
principles."
"Course not!" snorted the King. "Subject's fit only for tinkerers. No, sir, the whole secret lies with
the second law of thermodynamics."
Greyboar's frown has to be seen to be believed.
"Surely it's obvious!" exclaimed the King. "PhilosophyтАФethics, that is, the rest is triviaтАФconcerns
itself with the conduct of men, with the direction of their actions, not the substance of their deeds. To
place our ethics upon a sound metaphysical basis, therefore, we must ask the question: To what end do
all things in the Universe, without exception, conduct themselves?"
Greyboar was still frowning. The King's jowls quivered with agitation.
 "Come, come, my good man! To what destination does Time's Arrow point?"
"Maximum entropy," responded the strangler.
"Precisely!"
"But life works against entropy, human life most of all. At least, in the short run."
"Yes! Yes! And there's the folly of it all!"
I hadn't the faintest idea what they were babbling about, but all of a sudden Greyboar's eyes bugged
out. Never seen it happen before. What I mean is, he wasn't what you'd call the excitable type.
"I've got a bad feeling about this," I mumbled to myself.
"Of course!" bellowed the chokester. He swept the King into his embrace. "Master! Guru!"
"I've got a very bad feeling about this," I mumbled to myself.
Then everything fell apart at once. A loud crash indicated the escape of the King's soldiers from
their makeshift prison. As if that weren't bad enough, I could hear the squeals which announced the
arrival of the porkers. Bound to happen, of course, a strangler's got no business dawdling on the job.
Fortunately, Greyboar hadn't lost his ears along with his senses.
"Time presses, master." He set the King back on the divan. "Quickly, what is the Way?"
The King frowned. "Why, 'tis simple enough, in its bare outline. The achievement of ethical
entropy lies along the ascending stages of Languor, Torpor, and Stupor. In turn, achievement of these
steps requires following the eightfold Path of Chaos through application of the Foursome Random
Axioms. But where is the haste? I shall intercede on your behalf with the authorities. You can be sure
of it! Long have I sought a true disciple. We shall discuss our philosophy at length."
"Languor, torpor, stupor, eightfold path, foursome axioms, languor, torpor, stupor . . ." muttered
Greyboar, like a schoolboy reciting his tables. He seized the King by the throat. "I fear not, my guru."
The King's face swelled like a blowfish. "But . . . but . . . "
Greyboar shook his head sadly. "Matter of professional ethics."
The whirlwind was upon us! Alarum! Alarum! Hack and hew! The King's guards filled the room,
the porkers close behind. Bobbing, weaving, ducking, dodgingтАФhe can be nimble when he has to beтАФ
Greyboar scooped me up and headed for the door. He was handicapped at first, what with me in one
hand and the King in the other. But once the choke was finishedтАФI'd like to stress that point, there've
been allegations in certain quarters; I'll admit he was eccentric, but his craftsmanship was
impeccableтАФhe had one hand free and that was that. Guards and porkers went flying and we were out
of the King's chamber.
But by then, of course, we'd been recognized.