"Resnick, Mike - A Little Knowledge" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

"Of course I do not want you to stop thinking, Ndemi," I said, not without sympathy, for I understood the forces at war within him. "What good would a mundumugu be if he could not think? But just as there are right and wrong ways to throw a spear, there are right and wrong ways to think. I wish only to see you take the path of true wisdom."
"It will be greater wisdom if I come upon it myself," he said. "I must learn as many facts as I can, so that I can properly decide which are helpful and which are harmful."
"You are still too young," I said. "You must trust me until you are older, and better able to make those decisions."
"The facts will not change."
"No, but you will."
"But how can I know that change is for the good?" he asked. "What if you are wrong, and by listening to you until I become like you, I will be wrong too?"
"If you think I am wrong, why have you come back?"
"To listen, and decide," he said. "And to speak to the computer again."
"I cannot permit that," I said. "You have already caused great mischief among the tribe. Because of you, they are questioning everything I say."
"There is a reason for that."
"Perhaps you will tell me what it is?" I said, trying to keep the sarcasm from my voice, for I truly loved this boy and wished to win him back to my side.
"I have listened to your stories for many years now, Koriba," he said, "and I believe that I can use your method to show you the reason."
I nodded my head and waited for him to continue.
"This should be called the story of Ndemi," he said, "but because I am pretending to be Koriba, I shall call it the story of the Unborn Lion."
I plucked an insect from my cheek and rolled it between my fingers until the carapace cracked. "I am listening."
"Once there was an unborn lion who was very anxious to see the world," began Ndemi. "He spent much time talking about it to his unborn brothers. 'The world will be a wonderful place,' he assured them. 'The sun will always be shining, and the plains will be filled with fat, lazy impala, and all other animals will bow before us, for there shall be no animal mightier than us.'
"His brothers urged him to stay where he was. 'Why are you so anxious to be born?' they asked him. 'Here it is warm and safe, and we never hunger. Who knows what awaits us in the world?'
"But the unborn lion would hear none of it, and one night, while his mother and brethren slept, he stole out into the world. He could not see, so he nudged his mother and said, 'Where is the sun?' and she told him that the sun vanishes every evening, leaving the world cold and dark. 'At least when it comes back tomorrow, it will shine on fat lazy impala that we will catch and eat,' he said, trying to console himself.
"But his mother said, 'There are no impala here, for they have migrated with the rains to the far side of the world. All that is left for us to eat is the buffalo. Their flesh is tough and tasteless, and they kill as many of us as we kill of them.'
"'If my stomach is empty, at least my spirit will be full,' said the newly-born lion, 'for all other animals will look upon us with fear and envy.'
"'You are very foolish, even for a newly-born cub,' said his mother. 'The leopard and the hyena and the eagle look upon you not as an object of envy, but rather as a tasty meal.'
"'At least all of them will fear me when I am fully-grown,' said the newly-born lion.
"'The rhinoceros will gore you with his horn,' said his mother, 'and the elephant will toss you high into the trees with his trunk. Even the black mamba will not step aside for you, and will kill you if you try to approach it.'
"The mother continued her list of all the animals that would neither fear nor envy the lion when he grew up, and finally he told her to speak no more.
"'I have made a terrible mistake by being born,' he said. 'The world is not as I pictured it, and I will rejoin my brothers where they are warm and safe and comfortable.'
"But his mother merely smiled at him. 'Oh, no,' she said, not without compassion. 'Once you are born, whether it is of your own choosing or mine, you cannot ever go back to being an unborn lion. Here you are, and here you shall stay.'"
Ndemi looked at me, his story finished.
"It is a very wise story," I said. "I could not have done better myself. I knew the day I first made you my pupil that you would make a fine mundumugu."
"You still do not understand," he said unhappily.
"I understand the story perfectly," I replied.
"But it is a lie," said Ndemi. "I told it only to show you how easy it is to make up such lies."
"It is not easy at all," I corrected him. "It is an art, mastered only by a few -- and now that I see that you have mastered it, it would be doubly hurtful to lose you."
"Art or not, it is a lie," he repeated. "If a child heard and believed it, he would be sure that lions could speak, and that babies can be born whenever they chose to be." He paused. "It would have been much simpler to tell you that once I have obtained knowledge, whether is was freely given or not, I cannot empty my mind and give it back. Lions have nothing to do with that." He paused for a long moment. "Furthermore, I do not want to give my knowledge back. I want to learn more things, not forget those that I already know."
"You must not say that, Ndemi," I urged him. "Especially now that I see that my teachings have taken root, and that your abilities as a creator of fables will someday surpass my own. You can be a great mundumugu if you will just allow me to guide you."
"I love and respect you as I do my own father, Koriba," he replied. "I have always listened and tried to learn from you, and I will continue to do so for as long as you will permit me. But you are not the only source of knowledge. I also wish to learn what your computer can teach me."
"When I decide you are ready."
"I am ready now."
"You are not."
His face reflected an enormous inner battle, and I could only watch until it was resolved. Finally he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"I am sorry, Koriba, but I cannot continue to tell lies when there are truths to be learned." He laid a hand on my shoulder. "Kwaheri, mwalimu." Good-bye, my teacher.
"What will you do?"
"I cannot work on my father's shamba," he said, "not after all that I have learned. Nor do I wish to live in isolation with the bachelors at the edge of the forest."
"What is left for you?" I asked.
"I shall walk to that area of Kirinyaga called Haven, and await the next Maintenance ship. I will go to Kenya and learn to read and write, and when I am ready, I will study to become an historian. And when I am a good enough historian, I will return to Kirinyaga and teach what I have learned."
"I am powerless to stop you from leaving," I said, "for the right to emigrate is guaranteed to all our citizens by our charter. But if you return, know that despite what we have been to one another, I will oppose you."
"I do not wish to be your enemy, Koriba," he said.
"I do not wish to have you as an enemy," I replied. "The bond between us has been a strong one."
"But the things I have learned are too important to my people."
"They are my people too," I pointed out, "and I have led them to this point by always doing what I think is best for them."
"Perhaps it is time for them to choose what is best."