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

The Project, if it is completed, will reach a height of 205 cubits. This means that the King's arrow would
have to travel 1,227 cubits тАФstraight up. Now, it is a well-known fact that the King is a great hunter тАФ
a mighty hunter. No one can bend a bow the way he can. But 1,227 cubits? Straight up?
Thus, the facts alone make it clear that the King has no such intent. His real purpose in building the
Project is to provide a haven. A haven to which the people can flee should a second phenomenal rainfall
again cause the Twin Rivers to overflow their banks to such an extent that the entire Plain becomes
inundated. Living on that Plain, the members of Local 209 stand to benefit from the Project as much as
the rest of the people. For them to have, in effect, sabotaged such a noble undertaking is, frankly, beyond
my comprehension, unless their motive for doing so can be partially attributed to their unwitting
acceptance of the popular interpretation of the Project's purpose.
THE ORGANIZER: If the Project's real purpose is to provide a haven, why weren't they and the
rest of the people so informed in the first place?
THE COMPANY REPRESENTATIVE: I cannot, of course, speak for the King. But I should
imagine that he considered it so glaringly obvious that there was no need for the dissemination of such
information.
THE ORGANIZER: To me, it was never obvious. It still isn't. In the first place, only minimal flooding
has occurred since the Inundation; in the second, it's highly unlikely that Yahweh will again choose that
particular form of chastisement should future foul-ups on the part of the human race necessitate additional
punishment; and in the third, if he does decide on a second Inundation, you can rest assured that it will be
of such dimensions that the only thing the Project will be a haven for will be fish. But I'll play the game
fair: I'll see to it that the members of Local 209 have access to these minutes; and if, after reading them,
they wish to take another strike vote, I won't stand in their way. Meanwhile, the package stays as is.

There was a special meeting tonight at the Union Hall. At it, the Organizer asked if everybody had
read the minutes he'd distributed, and when everybody raised their hands. He asked did we want to take
another strike vote. There was a big chorus of nays and not a single yea. That shows how union brothers
stick together when the chips are down.
I've got to admit, though, that before I yelled my nay I had a bad moment. I'm still not sure I did right.
Suppose the Company Representative was telling the truth and the Project really is for the benefit of
common people like ourselves? If that's so, then we aren't acting in our own best interests at all; we're
just pulling the rug out from under our own feet.

The Company has pulled out!
Zeke brought us the news while we were on picket duty this morning. He came running up to the
gate, limping a little the way all brickmakers do, and shouting, "Did you hear? Did you hear? The
Company's gone! They've struck their tents and left!"
I stood there stunned. So did Ike. So did Eli and Dan. Ike got his breath back first. "Where's the
Organizer?" he asked Zeke in a sort of whisper.
"He's gone too. We can't find him anywhere."
There was a silence. Then Zeke said, "I've got to go tell the rest of the guys." He looked at us kind of
helplessly. "I guess there's not much sense picketing any more."
"No, I guess not," I said.
After he left, none of us said a word for a long time. Then Ike whispered, "It was like I said all along.
The Organizer was using us."
"But why?" Dan asked.
Ike shook his head. "I don't know."
"We've got company," Eli announced.
We looked. It was that long black palanquin again. Out of it stepped the King.
This time, he had brought his bow with him. It was slung diagonally across his back. His right hand
held an arrow.