"Theodore Sturgeon - The Skills of Xanadu" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sturgeon Theodore)

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THE SKILLS OF XANADU
by Theodore Sturgeon
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Copyright ┬й 1956 by Galaxy Publishing Corp.
eBook scanned & proofed by Binwiped 11-25-02 [v1.0]



AND THE SUN went nova and humanity fragmented and fled; and such is the self-knowledge of
humankind that it knew it must guard its past as it guarded its being, or it would cease to be
human; and such was its pride in itself that it made of its traditions a ritual and a standard.
The great dream was that wherever humanity settled, fragment by fragment by fragment, however
it lived, it would continue rather than begin again, so that all through the universe and the
years, humans would be humans, speaking as humans, thinking as humans, aspiring and progressing as
humans; and whenever human met human, no matter how different, how distant, he would come in
peace, meet his own kind, speak his own tongue.
Humans, however, being humans--
Bril emerged near the pink star, disliking its light, and found the fourth planet. It hung
waiting for him like an exotic fruit. (And was it ripe, and could he ripen it? And what if it were
poison?) He left his machine in orbit and descended in a bubble. A young savage watched him come
and waited by a waterfall.
"Earth was my mother," said Bril from the bubble. It was the formal greeting of all humankind,
spoken in the Old Tongue.
"And my father," said the savage, in an atrocious accent.
Watchfully, Bril emerged from the bubble, but stood very close by it. He completed his part of
the ritual. "I respect the disparity of our wants, as individuals, and greet you."
"I respect the identity of our needs, as humans, and greet you. I am Wonyne," said the youth,
"son of Tanyne, of the Senate, and Nina. This place is Xanadu, the district, on Xanadu, the fourth
planet."
"I am Bril of Kit Carson, second planet of the Sumner System, and a member of the Sole
Authority," said the newcomer, adding, "and I come in peace."
He waited then, to see if the savage would discard any weapons he might have, according to
historic protocol. Wonyne did not; he apparently had none. He wore only a cobwebby tunic and a
broad belt made of flat, black, brilliantly polished stones and could hardly have concealed so
much as a dart. Bril waited yet another moment, watching the untroubled face of the savage, to see
if Wonyne suspected anything of the arsenal hidden in the sleek black uniform, the gleaming
jackboots, the metal gauntlets.
Wonyne said only, "Then, in peace, welcome." He smiled. "Come with me to Tanyne's house and
mine, and be refreshed."
"You say Tanyne, your father, is a Senator? Is he active now? Could he help me to reach your
center of government?"
The youth paused, his lips moving slightly, as if he were translating the dead language into
another tongue. Then, "Yes. Oh, yes."
Bril flicked his left gauntlet with his right fingertips and the bubble sprang away and up,
where at length it would join the ship until it was needed. Wonyne was not amazed-- probably,
thought Bril, because it was beyond his understanding.
Bril followed the youth up a winding path past a wonderland of flowering plants, most of them
purple, some white, a few scarlet, and all jeweled by the waterfall. The higher reaches of the