"Mike Resnick - Kirinyaga" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

"The hare pointed to a hole in the earth. 'Down there,' he said, 'but
he will not give you back your honey.'
"'We shall see about that!' growled the lion.
"He jumped into the hole, roaring furiously, and was never seen again,
for the hare had chosen a very deep hole indeed. Then the hare went home to
his people and told them that the lion would never bother them again."
Most of the children laughed and clapped their hands in delight, but
the same young boy voiced his objection.
"That is not a story of Kirinyaga," he said scornfully. "We have no
lions here."
"It is a story of Kirinyaga," I replied. "What is important about the
story is not that it concerned a lion and a hare, but that it shows that the
weaker can defeat the stronger if he uses his intelligence."
"What has that to do with Kirinyaga?" asked the boy.
"What if we pretend that the men of Maintenance, who have ships and
weapons, are the lion, and the Kikuyu are the hares?" I suggested. "What
shall the hares do if the lion demands a sacrifice?"
The boy suddenly grinned. "Now I understand! We shall throw the lion
down a hole!"
"But we have no holes here," I pointed out.
"Then what shall we do?"
"The hare did not know that he would find the lion near a hole," I
replied. "Had he found him by a deep lake, he would have said that a large
fish took the honey."
"We have no deep lakes."
"But we do have intelligence," I said. "And if Maintenance ever
interferes with us, we will use our intelligence to destroy the lion of
Maintenance, just as the hare used his intelligence to destroy the lion of the
fable."
"Let us think how to destroy Maintenance right now!" cried the boy. He
picked up a stick and brandished it at an imaginary lion as if it were a spear
and he a great hunter.
I shook my head. "The hare does not hunt the lion, and the Kikuyu do
not make war. The hare merely protects himself, and the Kikuyu do the same."
"Why would Maintenance interfere with us?" asked another boy, pushing
his way to the front of the group. "They are our friends."
"Perhaps they will not," I answered reassuringly. "But you must always
remember that the Kikuyu have no true friends except themselves."
"Tell us another story, Koriba!" cried a young girl.
"I am an old man," I said. "The night has turned cold, and I must have
my sleep."
"Tomorrow?" she asked. "Will you tell us another tomorrow?"
I smiled. "Ask me tomorrow, after all the fields are planted and the
cattle and goats are in their enclosures and the food has been made and the
fabrics have been woven."
"But girls do not herd the cattle and goats," she protested. "What if
my brothers do not bring all their animals to the enclosure?"
"Then I will tell a story just to the girls," I said.
"It must be a long story," she insisted seriously, "for we work much
harder than the boys."