"RESNICK, Mike - The Land of Nod" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

The Land of Nod




Copyright (c) 1996 by Mike Resnick. All rights reserved. No reproduction permitted without the
express permission of the author.

Once, many years ago, there was a Kikuyu warrior who left his
village and wandered off in search of adventure. Armed only with a
spear, he slew the mighty lion and the cunning leopard. Then one
day he came upon an elephant. He realized that his spear was
useless against such a beast, but before he could back away or
find cover, the elephant charged.
His only hope was divine intervention, and he begged Ngai,
who rules the universe from His throne atop Kirinyaga, the holy
mountain that men now call Mount Kenya, to find him and pluck him
from the path of the elephant.
But Ngai did not respond, and the elephant picked the warrior
up with its trunk and hurled him high into the air, and he landed
in a distant thorn tree. His skin was badly torn by the thorns,
but at least he was safe, since he was on a branch some twenty
feet above the ground.
After he was sure the elephant had left the area, the warrior
climbed down. Then he returned home and ascended the holy mountain
to confront Ngai.
"What is it that you want of me?" asked Ngai, when the
warrior had reached the summit.
"I want to know why you did not come," said the warrior
angrily. "All my life I have worshiped you and paid tribute to
you. Did you not hear me ask for your help?"
"I heard you," answered Ngai.
"Then why did you not come to my aid?" demanded the warrior.
"Are you so lacking in godly powers that you could not find me?"
"After all these years you still do not understand," said
Ngai sternly. "It is _you_ who must search for _me_."
* * *
My son Edward picked me up at the police station on Biashara
Street just after midnight. The sleek British vehicle hovered a
few inches above the ground while I got in, and then his chauffeur
began taking us back to his house in the Ngong Hills.
"This is becoming tedious," he said, activating the
shimmering privacy barrier so that we could not be overheard.
He tried to present a judicial calm, but I knew he was furious.
"You would think they would tire of it," I agreed.
"We must have a serious talk," he said. "You have been back
only two months, and this is the fourth time I have had to bail
you out of jail."
"I have broken no Kikuyu laws," I said calmly, as we raced
through the dark, ominous slums of Nairobi on our way to the