"George R. R. Martin - Manna From Heaven" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin George R R)

what I think you mean?тАЭ she said.
тАЬThis is difficult to say,тАЭ Tuf replied. тАЬYou are the one holding a psionic cat, madam.тАЭ
It was an endless silent walk and an eternal awkward meal.
They took their dinner in a corner of the long, narrow communications room, surrounded by consoles,
telescreens, and cats. Tuf sat with Dax across his lap, and spooned up his dinner with methodical care.
On the other side of the table, Tolly Mune ate without tasting the food. She had no appetite. She felt old
and dizzy. And afraid.
Blackjack reflected her confusion; his serenity gone, he huddled in her lap, infrequently lifting his head
above the table to growl a warning at Dax.
And finally the moment arrived, as she had known it would: a buzz and a flashing blue light signaled an
incoming communication. Tolly Mune started at the sound, scraping her chair backwards against the
deck and swinging around sharply in her seat. Blackjack leapt off in alarm. She started to rise, and froze
in indecision.
тАЬI have programmed in strict instructions that I am on no account to be disturbed while dining,тАЭ Tuf
announced. тАЬErgo, that call is for you, by the process of elimination.тАЭ
The blue pinpoint flashed off, and on, and off, and on.
тАЬYouтАЩre no puling god,тАЭ Tolly Mune said. тАЬNeither am I, damn it. I donтАЩt want this goddamned burden,
Tuf.тАЭ
The light was flashing.
тАЬPerhaps it is Commander Wald Ober,тАЭ Tuf suggested. тАЬI suggest you take his call before he begins
counting backwards.тАЭ
тАЬNo one has the right, Tuf,тАЭ she said. тАЬNot you, not me.тАЭ
He gave a ponderous shrug.
The light flashed.
Blackjack yowled.
Tolly Mune took two steps toward the console, stopped, turned back toward Tuf. тАЬCreation is part of
godhood,тАЭ she said with suddenly certainty. тАЬYou can destroy, Tuf, but you cannot create. ThatтАЩs what
makes you a monster instead of a god.тАЭ
тАЬThe creation of life in the cloning tanks is an everyday and commonplace element of my profession,тАЭ Tuf
said.
The light flashed on, went out, flashed on again.
тАЬNo,тАЭ she said, тАЬyou replicate life there, but you donтАЩt create it. It has to have existed already,
somewhere in time and space, and you have to have a cell sample, a fossil recordтАФsomethingтАФor
youтАЩre helpless. Puling hell, yes! Oh, you have the power of creation all right. The same goddamned
power that I have, and that every man and woman down in the undercity has. Procreation, Tuf. ThereтАЩs
your awesome power, thereтАЩs the only miracle there isтАФthe one thing humans have that makes us like
gods, and the very thing you propose to take away from ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the people on
SтАЩuthlam. The hell! YouтАЩre no creator, youтАЩre no god.тАЭ
тАЬIndeed,тАЭ said Haviland Tuf, expressionlessly.
тАЬSo you donтАЩt have the right to make godlike decisions,тАЭ she said. тАЬAnd neither do I, damn it.тАЭ She
moved to the console in three long, confident strides, touched a control. A telescreen ran with colors,
resolving into a mirror-finish battle helmet emblazoned wth a stylized globe insignia. Twin sensors burned
crimson behind a dark plasteel faceplate. тАЬCommander Ober,тАЭ she said.
тАЬFirst Councillor Mune,тАЭ Wald Ober said. тАЬI was concerned. The allied ambassadors are saying all kinds
of wild things to the newsfeeds. A peace treaty, a new flowering. Can you confirm? WhatтАЩs going on? Is
there trouble there?тАЭ
тАЬYes,тАЭ she said. тАЬListen to me, Ober, andтАФтАЭ
тАЬTolly Mune,тАЭ Tuf said.
She whirled on him. тАЬWhat?тАЭ
тАЬIf procreation is the mark of godhood,тАЭ Tuf said, тАЬthen cats are gods, too, it would seem to follow.