"Robert F. Young - Project Hi-Rise" - читать интересную книгу автора (Young Robert F)

"You impress me as being a sensible young man," he said. "What's your name?"
"Jake," I said.
тАЬJake. Well, Jake, I happen to be a wealthy merchant, as you may have guessed. In Frankincense
and Myrrh. But I'm here just as an ordinary citizen тАФ a citizen who is doing his level best to try to
understand why certain other citizens have put their personal interests above the common interests of the
community-as-a-whole and aborted a community project."
"I thought it was a Company project," Ike said, butting in.
"The Company is in the King's employ. The King, ex officio, is the very essence of the community.
Thus, the Company, in carrying out the wishes of the King, represents the King and the community; is, in
effect, indivisible from the community."
"Not in my book," I said. "But I can see why it would be in yours. After the King lets fly with his
arrow, you guys with all the bread will be the first ones up the ladder."
The wealthy merchant stiffened. "Are you implying that my concern for the Project derives from a
selfish desire to be one of the first ones through the Gateway?"
"He's not implying it, he's saying it," Ike said. "You guys just can't wait to grease old Yahweh's palm,
can you? You can't wait to tell him you think the King is a kook."
The wealthy merchant's pink cheeks were now a shade darker than his jowls. A purplish cloud had
begun to gather on his forehead. "Young man," he said, "you sound positively paganistic. Don't you want
to get into Heaven?"
"Not if you fat cats get there first," Ike said.
The purplish cloud broke. "Well, you may rest assured you aren't going to!" the wealthy merchant
shouted. "Not if I have anything to say about it!" He pointed successively at Eli and Zeke and me. "And
neither are you or you or you!" With that, he stamped back to his palanquin, got in and yanked the
curtains closed, and the bearers trotted off with it. We stood there laughing.

Tonight at the Hall, the Organizer told us to tighten our belts, that at the bargaining table this
afternoon the Company had refused to budge from its original offer of a flat five-percent raise and that
he, as our representative, had informed them they could shove it and that despite the Mediator's pleas
both sides had walked out.
Afterward, Ike and I stopped in The Fig Leaf for a couple of beers. Ike seemed worried. "Do you
think he really has our best interests at heart, Jake?" he asked.
"Of course he does!"
"I suppose you're right. But sometimes I get the feeling that he's using us guys for some purpose of his
own."
"What purpose?"
"I don't know. It's just a feeling тАФ that's all."
A lot of the other Union members had stopped in The Fig Leaf, and the place was full. Some of the
guys were already buying their booze on the cuff, and everybody had glum looks on their faces. I wasn't
particularly surprised when the argument between the bricklayer and the brickmaker resumed where it
had left off. This time, nobody broke it up.
It was late when I finally got home. All evening I'd dreaded having to face Debbie with the bad news.
But when I looked in the bedroom, she was sound asleep.

At long last the Mediator has got both sides to agree to another meeting. It's to take place tomorrow
morning. I think the Organizer should back down a little тАФ settle, say, for a ten-percent raise and forget
the fringe benefits. True, it's only been two weeks since we walked off the job, but Debbie and I have
already run up a sizable food bill at the Mom & Pop store around the corner, what's left of our savings
will just about cover the rent, and I'm smoking Bugler instead of Winstons. And any day now, as Debbie
keeps reminding me, we're going to have another mouth to feed. Feeding it doesn't worry me half so
much as paying the hospital and doctor bills.