"Jack Vance - Alastor 2262 - Trullion" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vance Jack)

Out toward the rim of the galaxy hangs Alastor Cluster, a whorl of thirty thousand live stars in
an irregular volume twenty to thirty light-years in diameter. The surrounding region is dark and,
except for a few hermit stars, unoccupied. To the exterior view, Alastor presents a flamboyant
display of star-streams, luminous webs, sparkling nodes. Dust clouds hang across the brightness;
the engulfed stars glow russet, rose, or smoky amber. Dark stars wander unseen among a million
subplanetary oddments of iron, slag and ice: the so-called "starments."

Scattered about the cluster are three thousand inhabited planets with a human population of
approximately five trillion persons. The worlds are diverse, the populations equally so;
nevertheless they share a common language and all submit to the authority of the Connatic at Lusz,
on the world Numenes.

The current Connatic is Oman Ursht, sixteenth in the Idite succession, a man of ordinary and
undistinguished appearance. In portraits and on public occasions he wears a severe black uniform


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with a black casque, in order to project an image of inflexible authority, and this is how he is
known to the folk of Alastor Cluster. In private Oman Ursht is a calm and reasonable man, who
tends to under- rather than over-administrate. He ponders all aspects of his conduct, knowing well
that his slightest act-a gesture, a word, a symbolic nuance-might start off an avalanche of
unpredictable consequences. Hence his effort to create the image of a man rigid, terse and
unemotional.

To the casual observer, Alastor Cluster is a system placid and peaceful. The Connatic knows
differently. He recognizes that wherever human beings strive for advantage, disequilibrium exists;
lacking easement, the social fabric becomes taut and sometimes rips asunder. The Connatic
conceives his function to be the identification and relief of social stresses.
Sometimes he ameliorates, sometimes he employs techniques of distraction. When harshness becomes
unavoidable he deploys his military agency, the Whelm. Oman Ursht winces to see an insect injured;
the Connatic without compunction orders a million persons to their doom. In many cases, believing
that each condition generates its own counter-condition, he stands aloof, fearing to introduce a
confusing third factor. When in doubt, do nothing: this is one of the Connatic's favorite credos.
After an ancient tradition he roams anonymously about the cluster. Occasionally, in order to
remedy an injustice, he represents himself as an important official; often he rewards kindness and
self-sacrifice. He is fascinated by the ordinary life of his subjects and listens attentively to
such dialogues as: OLD MAN (to a lazy youth}: If everybody had what they wanted, who would work?
Nobody.

YOUTH: Not I, depend on it.

OLD MAN: And you'd be the first to cry out in anguish, for it's work what keeps the lights
on. Get on with it now, put your shoulder into it. I can't bear sloth.

YOUTH (grumbling): If I were Connatic I'd arrange that everyone had their wishes. No toil! Free
seats at the hussade game! A fine space-yacht! New clothes every day! Servants to lay forth
delectable foods!