"Allen Steele - Zwarte Piet's Tale" - читать интересную книгу автора (Steele Allen)

because we'd brought something pure, decent and civilized to Mars. Perhaps that was a Christmas
miracle in itself. If so, then we wanted another one, and another one after that.

We'd eventually receive our miracle. But it wasn't one I would have ever expected.

****

In 2066, the Pax Astra underwent a political upheaval when the Monarchists overthrew the ruling New
Ark Party on the Clarke County space colony near Earth. The coup d'etat was led by former New Ark
members frustrated with the economic stagnation brought on by the Pax's government by consensus.
They formed an opposition party with the intent of recasting the Pax Astra as a democratic monarchy,
and eventually deposed the New Ark in a near-bloodless revolution. Yet shortly after Queen Macedonia
had been crowned, the aresian representatives to the new Parliament realized that Martian interests were
a very low priority in the new order. The diplomats caught the next cycleship home; no sooner had they
arrived at Arsia Station that they formally announced that Mars was seceding from the Pax Astra and that
its colonies were declaring political independence.

This was the beginning of the great Martian immigration. Within a year, our world began receiving the first
shiploads of refugees from the Pax. Most were New Ark loyalists who had quickly discovered that
Monarchist democracy was restricted to those who supported the royal agenda, which mainly involved
keeping itself in power and persecuting anyone who objected. Since the Moon was part of the Pax and
life on Earth was intolerable to those who had been born in low-gee environments, Mars became their
only sanctuary.

But we hadn't built a Statue of Liberty anywhere on our planet, and even Arsia Station was ill-equipped
to handle the dozens, then hundreds, of refugeesтАФdrybacks, you want to use the impolite termтАФwho
came to us during the long winter of m.y. 57. Human survival on Mars has always been a frail and
precarious matter; even with mandatory water rationing and voluntary birth control, the six colonies were
unable to support everyone from the Pax who wanted to move here. Ascension was reopened and West
Bank relaxed its standards to admit non-Jewish immigrants; when their resources were exhausted, the
colonies sent messages to the Pax pleading for it to stop sending more bodies our way. Yet the
Monarchists turned a deaf ear to us; since Mars was no longer within the Queen's domain, it was a
convenient dumping ground for its dissidents, low-lifes, and criminals. When its escapees began to
include people they wanted to keep to themselves, they revoked exit visas and began searching outbound
vessels. But they couldn't stop everyone from leaving, and it was a rare week when the contrail of
another lander wasn't spotted streaking across our pink skies.

Some of the newcomers came equipped to establish new settlements; this was how we got Nova
America in the Solis Planum south of Arsia Station, Graceland in the Margaritifer northeast of New
Chattanooga, and Thankgod up on southern edge of the Acidalia Plantia. Others arrived with little more
than a second-rate skinsuit and a handful of useless Pax lox that the Mars colonies had stopped
accepting as hard currency. They often came down in cramped landers stripped of all but the most
essential hardware. Many arrived safely; one way or another, they managed to survive, even prosper. A
few crashed in remote areas. Decades later, explorers were still finding their remains: sad and lonesome
skeletons, desiccated by dust storms, half-buried within cold red drifts.

As the month of Taurus rolled around once more, Doc and I found little free time to prepare for
Christmas Week. I had received paramedic training by then, so I could assist Doc when we flew out on a
sortie; good thing, too, because Arsia General's resources were stretched to the limit. Besides the fact
that many immigrants had sustained injuries during landing, just as many had become ill during their long