"Martin H. Greenberg - Christmas on Ganymede and Other StoriesUC - Compilation" - читать интересную книгу автора (Greenberg Martin H)

The larl presented his blunt muzzle to me in what might have been meant as a friendly smile. Perhaps not; the expression hangs unreadable, ambiguous in my mind even now. Then he stood and padded away into the friendly dark shadows of the Stone House.
I was sitting staring into the coals a few minutes later when my second-eldest sisterЧher face a fea-
A Midwinter's Tale 27
tureless blaze of light, like an angel'sЧcame into the room and saw me. She held out a hand, saying, "Come on, Flip, you're missing everything." And I went with her.
Did any of this actually happen? Sometimes I wonder. But it's growing late, and your parents are away. My room is small but snug, my bed warm but empty. We can burrow deep in the blankets and scare away the cave-bears by playing the oldest winter games there are.
You're blushing! Don't tug away your hand. I'll be gone soon to some distant world to fight in a war for people who are as unknown to you as they are to me. Soldiers grow old slowly, you know. We're shipped frozen between the stars. When you are old and plump and happily surrounded by grandchildren, I'll still be young, and thinking of you. You'll remember me then, and our thoughts will touch in the void. Will you have nothing, to regret? Is that really what you want?
I thought once that I could outrun the darkness. I thoughtЧI must have thoughtЧthat by joining the militia I could escape my fate. But for all that I gave up my home and family, in the end the beast came anyway to eat my brain. Now I am alone. A month from now, in all this world, only you will remember my name. Let me live in your memory.
Come, don't be shy. Let's put the past aside and get on with our lives. That's better. Blow the candle out, love, and there's an end to my tale.
All this happened long ago, on a planet whose name has been burned from my memory.
Christmas on Ganymede
Isaac Asimov
Ofef Johnson hummed nasally to himself and his china-blue eyes were dreamy as he surveyed the stately fir tree in the corner of the library. Though the library was the largest single room in the Dome, Olaf felt it none too spacious for the occasion. Enthusiastically he dipped into the huge crate at his side and took out the first roll of red-and-green crгpe paper.
What sudden burst of sentiment had inspired the Ganymedan Products Corporation, Inc. to ship a complete collection of Christmas decorations to the Dome, he did not pause to inquire. Olaf's was a placid disposition, and in his self-imposed job as chief Christmas decorator, he was content with his lot.
He frowned suddenly and muttered a curse. The General Assembly signal light was flashing on and off hysterically. With a hurt air Olaf laid down the tack-
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Christmas on Ganymede 29
hammer he had just lifted, then the roll of crepe paper, picked some tinsel out of his hair and left for officers quarters.
Commander Scott Pelham was in his deep armchair at the head of the table when Olaf entered. His stubby fingers were drumming unrhythmically upon the glass-topped table. Olaf met the commander's hotly furious eyes without fear, for nothing had gone wrong in his department in twenty Ganymedan revolutions.
The room filled rapidly with men, and Pelham's eyes hardened as he counted noses in one sweeping glance.
"We're all here. Men, we face a crisis!"
There was a vague stir. Olaf's eyes sought the ceiling and he relaxed. Crises hit the Dome once a revolution, on the average. Usually they turned out to be a sudden rise in the quota of oxite to be gathered, or the inferior quality of the last batch of karen leaves. He stiffened, however, at the next words.
"In connection with the crisis, I have one question to ask." Pelham's voice was a deep baritone, and it rasped unpleasantly when he was angry. "What dirty imbecilic troublemaker has been telling those blasted Ossies fairy tales?"
Olaf cleared his throat nervously and thus immediately became the center of attention. His Adam's apple wobbled in sudden alarm and his forehead wrinkled into a washboard. He shivered.
"IЧIЧ" he stuttered, quickly fell silent. His long fingers made a bewildered gesture of appeal. "I mean I was out there yesterday, after the lastЧuhЧsupplies of karen leaves, on account the Ossies were slow andЧ"
30 Isaac Asimov
A deceptive sweetness entered Pelham's voice. He smiled.
"Did you tell those natives about Santa Claus, Olaf?"
The smile looked uncommonly like a wolfish leer and Olaf broke down. He nodded convulsively.
"Oh, you did? Well, well, you told them about Santa Claus! He comes down in a sleigh that flies through the air with eight reindeer pulling it, huh?"
"WellЧerЧdoesn't he?" Olaf asked unhappily.
"And you drew pictures of the reindeer, just to make sure there was no mistake. Also, he has a long white beard and red clothes with white trimmings."
"Yeah, that's right," said Olaf, his face puzzled.
"And he has a big bag, chock full of presents for good little boys and girls, and he brings it down the chimney and puts presents inside stockings."
"Sure."
"You also told them he's about due, didn't you? One more revolution and he's going to visit us."
Olaf smiled weakly. "Yeah, Commander, I meant to tell you. I'm fixing up the tree andЧ"
"Shut up!" The commander was breathing hard in a whisding sort of way. "Do you know what those Ossies have thought of?"
"No, Commander."
Pelham leaned across the table toward Olaf and shouted:
"They want Santa Claus to visit them!"
Someone laughed and changed it quickly into a strangling cough at the commander's raging stare.
"And if Santa Claus doesn't visit them, the Ossies are going to quit work!" He repeated, "Quit coldЧ strike!"
Christmas on Ganymede 31
There was no laughter, strangled or otherwise, after that. If there were more than one thought anr.jng the entire group, it didn't show itself. Olaf expressed that thought:
"But what about the quota?"
"Well, what about it?" snarled Pelham. "Do I have to draw pictures for you? Ganymedan Products has to get one hundred tons of wolframite, eighty tons of karen leaves and fifty tons of oxite every year, or it loses its franchise. I suppose there isn't anyone here who doesn't know that. It so happens that the current year ends in two Ganymedan revolutions, and we're five per cent behind schedule as it is."
There was pure, horrified silence.
"And now the Ossies won't work unless they get Santa Claus. No work, no quota, no franchiseЧno jobs! Get that, you low-grade morons. When the company loses its franchise, we lose the best-paying jobs in the System. Kiss them good-by, men, unlessЧ"
He paused, glared steadily at Olaf, and added:
"Unless, by next revolution, we have a flying sleigh, eight reindeer and a Santa Claus. And by every cosmic speck in the rings of Saturn, we're going to have just that, especially a Santa!"