"Тед Чан. Seventy-Two Letters (72 буквы, Рассказ) (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

epithets for dexterity. But your efforts at social reform would be for
naught unless we first ensure the survival of our species."
"Obviously, but I do not want the potential for reform that is offered
by dexterous names to be neglected. There may never be a better
opportunity for restoring dignity to common workers. What kind of victory
would we achieve if the continuation of life meant ignoring this
opportunity?"
"Well said," acknowledged the earl. "Let me make a proposal. So that
you can best make use of your time, the Royal Society will provide support
for your development of dexterous automata as needed:
securing investors and so forth. I trust you will divide your time
between the two projects wisely. Your work on biological nomenclature must
remain confidential, obviously. Is that satisfactory?"
"It is. Very well then, gentlemen: I accept." They shook hands.


* * *


Some weeks had passed since Stratton last spoke with Willoughby, beyond
a chilly exchange of greetings in passing. In fact, he had little
interaction with any of the union sculptors, instead spending his time
working on letter permutations in his office, trying to refine his
epithets for dexterity.
He entered the manufactory through the front gallery, where customers
normally perused the catalogue. Today it was crowded with domestic
automata, all the same model char-engine. Stratton saw the clerk ensuring
they were properly tagged.
"Good morning, Pierce," he said. "What are all these doing here?"
"An improved name is just out for the СRegentТ," said the clerk.
"EveryoneТs eager to get the latest."
"YouТre going to be busy this afternoon." The keys for unlocking the
automataТs name-slots were themselves stored in a safe that required two
of CoadeТs managers to open. The managers were reluctant to keep the safe
open for more than a brief period each afternoon.
"IТm certain I can finish these in time."
"You couldnТt bear to tell a pretty house-maid that her char-engine
wouldnТt be ready by tomorrow."
The clerk smiled. "Can you blame me, sir?"
"No, I cannot," said Stratton, chuckling. He turned toward the business
offices behind the gallery, when he found himself confronted by Willoughby.
"Perhaps you ought to prop open the safe," said the sculptor, "so that
house-maids might not be inconvenienced. Seeing how destroying our
institutions seems to be your intent."
"Good morning, Master Willoughby," said Stratton stiffly. He tried to
walk past, but the other man stood in his way.
"IТve been informed that Coade will be allowing non-union sculptors on
to the premises to assist you."
"Yes, but I assure you, only the most reputable independent sculptors
are involved."