"James Tiptree Jr. - Your Haploid Heart" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tiptree James Jr)

these days? Look: Shared culture is shared culture. Psychic congeniality. It
is not humanity. What kind of arrogance could label any general ethical value
a criterion of humanity? Being human is nothing so vast. It reduces to one
nitty gritty little point: Mutual fertility!" "What a limited concept of
humanity!" said Pax. "Limited? Crucial! Look at the consequences. When we meet
and mix with a nonhuman race, no matter if they're totally sympatico and look
like the girl next door, the two groups stay separate to the end of time. But
when we meet a human race, even if they look like alligators-and some of 'em
do- sooner or later those genes are going to flow into the human gene pool,
despite any laws or taboos you can set up. Q.E.D. every time -with all the
social, religious, political consequences the mixture entails. Now do you see
why that's the one fact the Bureau has to know?" Pax had subsided, giving me
his Chesapeake stare. I wondered if I had been out too long. Auriga Sector had
caught me a month short of Long Leave and talked me into helping close out the
Sector survey. "A piece of cake," the chief had called it. Well, I had to
admit that it looked like a piece of cake as we rolled up to the palatial
Esthaan guest villa. Reshvid Ovancha's horn brought a squad of servants for
our bags, and he personally showed us about. It was amazingly like a deluxe
version of a Gal Fed faculty residence. Even the plumbing worked the same.
The only alien feature I saw was a diffuser emitting a rather pleasing floral
scent. "This is the home of my cousin who is away at sea," Ovancha informed
us. "I trust you will be comfortable, Reshvidi." "We will be more than
comfortable, Reshvid Ovancha. We did not expect such luxury!" "Why not?" he
smiled. "Civilized men enjoy the same things!" He made a minute adjustment to
the scent dispenser. "When you are ready I will take you to lunch at the
University where you will meet our Senior Councillor." When we rolled through
the University gates Pax muttered, "Looks just like Gal Fed campus before the
Flower Dance." "Ah, the Flower Dance!" said Ovancha gaily. "Delightful! Did
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you encounter Professor Flennery? And Dr. Groot? Such fine men. But that was
long before your time, I fear. We live long on Esthaa, you know. A most
healthy world!" Pax's face grew longer. I personally was wondering what had
happened to the famous Esthaan reserve. We met it at lunch. Our hosts were
gracious but formal, smiling gently when Ovancha laughed, and gravely
observant while he chatted. Some were in faculty robes; a few, like Ovancha,
in uniform. The atmosphere was that of a staid gentleman's club. "We hope you
will feel at home, Reshvidi," intoned the councillor, who had turned out to be
Ovancha's uncle. "Why not?" laughed Ovancha. "Now come, you must see your
laboratories." The laboratories were very adequate, and by evening we had our
schedules and contacts set. "Do we have to go to all those dinners?" Pax
complained. He was prowling the patio and eyeing the line of distant
mountains, where two pink moons were coming up. Fountains tinkled and a bird
sang. "One of us must. You can start some field work." "While you look into
the fertility. Say, Ian, how-" "With a culture tank," I told him, "and a great
deal of caution. And it is a ticklish business until you know what the taboos
are. How do you think Victorian England, say, would have reacted to a couple
of aliens who demanded a look at people's sex organs and a fresh slice of