"E. C. Tubb - Dumarest 01 - The Winds of Gath" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tubb E. C)

Such thoughts verged on heresy and Brother Angelo
recognized the insidious attraction of theological disputation. It
was not for him to questionтАФonly for him to act. If he could ease
the burden of one man then his life would not have been in vain.
The Universal teaching of complete Brotherhood held the answer
to all pain, all hurt, all despair. No man is an island. All belong to
the corpus humanitatis. The pain of one is the pain, all hurt, all
despair. No man is an island. All of the credo, there, but for the
grace of God, go I, the millennium would have arrived.

He would never see it. Men bred too fast, traveled too far for
that. But it was something for which to live, a purpose for his
dedication.

The thin voice from beyond the mesh ceased its litany of sin.
The pale face was tense, the eyes hungry with anticipation.
Brother Angelo switched on the benediction-light. In the swirling
kaleidoscope of colors the face seemed less animal, more
ethereal.

"Look into the light of forgiveness," he said softly. "Bathe in
the flame of righteousness and be cleansed of all pain, all sin.
Yield to the benediction of the Universal Brotherhood."

The light was hypnotic, the subject subservient, the monk a
trained master of his craft. The pale face relaxed, the eyes lost
their hunger, peace smoothed the features. Subjectively the man
was undergoing stringent penance. Later he would receive the
bread of forgiveness.
 ***

Brother Benedict looked back as he reached the rise on which
stood Hightown. He could see the pennant of the church and
could imagine the file of men waiting to enter the booth. A
younger monk would have been pleased at the display of
religious fervor; Brother Benedict knew that the majority of
them wanted only the wafer of concentrates which followed the
communion.

Yet first they had to pass beneath the benediction-light. It was
a fair exchange.

The streets of Hightown were wide, well-paved, free of dust
and dirt. His sandals made little scraping noises as he trod the
crushed stone surrounding the prefabricated hutments. A
tourist, supine in a figure-chair, lifted a lazy hand in greeting.

"Welcome, Brother. Have you come to convert the heathen?"

"I come so that men may have the opportunity of indulging in