"Robert F. Young - Chicken Itza" - читать интересную книгу автора (Young Robert F)

utilitiesтАФthese were not reliable criteria. There was only one foolproof way of taking a cityтАЩs pulse and
getting an accurate reading: by inspecting its major industries. Siw City had only one.
тАЬTake me to Synthinc," Firby said.

***

After reseating his two passengers, Albert threw a second handful of corn over the runaboutтАЩs hood
before he got back behind the wheel. Firby ground his teeth. "Can't you stop him from doing that,
Mayor?тАЭ
"IтАФI don't think it would be advisable, sir. We haven't had a traffic accident in years.тАЭ
"Are you implying that everybody throws corn on their hood?"
"I'mтАФIтАЩm afraid so.тАЭ
For the first time, Firby realized that the feather in the mayorтАЩs hat was a chicken feather.
The runabout rolled smoothly past parks like Easter baskets, schools like birthday cakes and
hospitals like blocks of spun sugar. From the front, Synthinc looked like a big brick of Neapolitan ice
cream. Centered above the entrance were the letters S-Y-N-T-H-I-N-C, beneath them were two
crossed chicken feathers molded in bronze.
Firby followed the mayor into the building,
A balding man advanced to meet them. The mayor introduced him as Fyodor Dubchek, the president
and general manager. тАЬIтАЩll be delighted to show you around, Mr. Firby,тАЭ Dubchek said.
тАЬJust take me to the machines."
There were hundreds of themтАФthousands. All of them were set up for the various operations
involved in turning a native plant called puwuwun into commercial synthifabric, and each was tended by a
Siw.
Firby walked up and down the aisles, listening in vain for the rumble of a bad bearing or the telltale
knocking of a worn shaft. Rounding a corner, he saw a Siw wearing striped mechanic's overalls and
carrying what appeared to de a large oilcan passing from machine to machine and depositing a few drops
of oil on each. But Firby 's elation was short lived, for when the Sew came closer, he saw that what he'd
thought was an oilcan was in fact a water sprinkler and that what he'd taken for oil was water.
For a moment, the enormity of the sacrilege was too much for him to cope with тАЬWater,тАЭ he babbled.
"He's oiling the machines with water."
"Not ordinary water,тАЭ said Dubchek, who with the mayor was standing just behind him "Rain
water.тАЭ
"Rain water!тАЭ
"Not ordinary rain water, Mr. Kirby,тАЭ Mayor Kobecker said. тАЬSacred rain water. Sprinkling it on
things is a Siw ritual designed to ward off trouble.тАЭ
тАЬOn the same order as scattering corn, no doubt,тАЭ Firby said scathingly.
The Mayor flinched slightly, but held his ground. тАЬYes, sir.тАЭ
"And using chicken feathers for talismans.тАЭ
The mayor rankled "ThereтАЩre Siw stratagemsтАФall of them. And they can be used both ways. The
point is, they work. At first, we were reluctant to permit such practices, but after we relented our
breakdown rate was cut in half, ourтАФтАЬ
тАЬLlisten," Firby interrupted. тАЬI know as well as anyone that keeping a city in shape is a neverending
problem. But you're going to tell me that you solved it by allowing the people you were supposed to
civilize to revert to such superstitious foolishness as nattering of sprinkling rain water and wearing
chicken feathers! There's another reason why your roofs donтАЩt cave in; why your streets don't develop
chuckholes, why your machines don't break down. There has to be!тАЭ
"As a matter of fact." Mayor Kobecker admitted with an air of resignation, тАЬthere is."
тАЬI knew science was lurking behind the scenes somewhere!"
"Well, not science exactly. Big we do have a sort ofтАФahтАФsupervising engineer."