"Laurence M. Janifer - Count Down" - читать интересную книгу автора (Janifer Laurence M)

I won't stand in his way any longer: Minister Dall Freeman."
"Thank you, Sidney. Before we begin the interview this evening, I'd like to make a brief statement, if
you don't mind."
"Not at all, Minister, not at all; anything you desire, of course. Ladies, gentlemen: The minister is
about to make a statement. Minister Freeman?"
 "Thank you. It has been brought to my attention that many of you watchingтАФand many who are not
now watching; there are doubtless better things to do on a Sunday eveningтАФare opposed to allowing the
interplanetary ship Roubins to take off on June 13th of this yearтАФa Friday, as you knowтАФbecause you
feel that no good can come of so great an event occurring on Friday the thirteenth. Well, ladies and
gentlemenтАФand I mean to include those of all colors, our white brethren as well as the restтАФI hope you
won't be seriously influenced by what is nothing more than a bit of ancient superstition. There is no magic
in the number thirteen, no magic in the day Friday, no magic in their combination. I'm sure you are
sensible enough to realize that. The Roubins is needed; it cannot take off on any other practicable date. I
hope you won't allow this scrap of discredited superstition to influence you against the takeoff; and I'm
sure that, on reflection, you will be the sensible people I have always known you to be."
"Thank you, Minister. And now, if perhaps there is a response . . . yes, Mr. Delvora?"
"I'd like to ask the minister . . ."

COLORADO SPRINGS
ARCHAEOLOGICAL SITE:
1600 H. (2000 CAP. COMP.),
3 JUNE 2113
"I've seen that idiot on five programs in four days," Parran Allerton said as he punched off the
portable 3V. "And I hope I never see him again."
His sister Marian, keeping him company in the main tent of the expedition, sighed. It was going to
begin all over again. "Why, Parr? It seems to meтАФ"
"It seems to you he makes sense," Allerton snapped. "Of course it does. But to the great public . . .
he's doing harm, not good. They don't want sense. They want . . . oh, God, I don't know what.
Cosseting. Reassurance. Simplicity." He turned to face his sister, his thin frame blazing with anger. "You,
now: you're a logical creature."
"I am?" Marian asked gently.
"And those othersтАФthe peopleтАФnow who was it said Your people, sir, are a great beastтАФ"
"Hamilton," Marian said. "Alexander. An ancient."
"тАФThose others don't want logic and won't listen to it. They're crazed with their damned superstition,
and it will rule them. It can't be stopped . . . and Freeman, the idiot, is trying to stop it with logic. Like
stopping a flood withтАФI don't know whatтАФa sheet of paper."
Marian sighed again. "But what else can he do? What else is there to be done?"
"Damn it," Allerton said, "he's the politician. He's the one who manages people. He's the one who
ought to know what to do; what else is a politician good for?"
"PerhapsтАФ"
"No perhaps about it," Allerton said. "The man's an idiot; I've known it for years, ever since I met
him when we got those silly medals for our second dig; and I'm having it confirmed for me every time I
turn on the 3V."
"Then don't turn it on." Marian thought of herself as a practical woman, a breed which had great
value around a dig, where emotional upsets, or sudden accesses of happiness and knowledge, were
commonly messy matters.
"But I won't let him bar me fromтАФ"
"From what?" Marian said. "A heart attack? Please, Parr, listen to me. You've no business getting so
upset aboutтАФ"
Whereupon the wireless, picture-less 'phone rang in the tent.