"Arcady And Boris Strugatsky. Prisoners of Power" - читать интересную книгу автора

robot.
The only threat to the Creators came from people who, because of
certain physiological quirks, were immune to this mass-hypnosis. They were
called degens. The constant field had no effect on their thought processes,
but the strikes did cause them agonizing pains. There were comparatively few
degens - something like one percent of the population - but they alone
were awake in this kingdom of somnambulists; they alone possessed the
ability to evaluate a situation soberly, to perceive the world as it really
was, to influence their environment, to change it, to govern. The most
abominable aspect was that the degens themselves provided society with its
ruling elite, the All-Powerful Creators. All the Creators were degens, but
comparatively few degens were Creators. Those who could not or would not
become involved in this governing elite were declared enemies of the state
and were treated accordingly.
Maxim was overwhelmed by despair: his inhabited island was populated by
puppets. Hitler's enormous propaganda apparatus was erode beside this system
of radiation towers. One could have turned off the radio; one could have
chosen not to listen to Goebbels' speeches; one could have chosen not to
read the newspapers. But here it was impossible to evade the radiation
field. It had no equal in the history of humankind. There was nothing in
Earth's experience to look to for guidance. There was nothing to rely on.
Zefs plan to seize some important region was no more than a gamble. They
were confronted by an enormous machine, too simple to change by evolutionary
methods and too enormous to destroy with small forces. There wasn't a force
in the country that could liberate such a huge nation, a nation that had no
idea that it was not a free people, and that, as Vepr expressed it, had
swerved from the course of history. This machine was invulnerable
internally. Minor revolts did not disturb its basic stability. Partially
destroyed, it recovered rapidly; irritated, it reacted immediately and in
kind to the irritant, ignoring the fate of its individual elements.
There remained but one hope: the machine had a Center, a control panel,
a brain. Theoretically, this Center could be destroyed; then the machine
would die in unstable equilibrium. And the moment would come when an attempt
must be made to shift this world onto other tracks, to return it to the
course of history. But the Center's location was a well-kept secret.
Besides, who would destroy it? It was far more complicated than attacking a
tower. Such an operation would require a great deal of money and, above all,
an army of people immune to radiation. Yes, either people immune to
radiation, or simple, easily accessible protective devices to protect those
who were not immune. Neither had ever been available, nor was their
availability foreseen. Several hundred thousand degens were dispersed,
isolated, and persecuted. Many belonged to the category of so-called legal
degens. But even if they could be united and armed, the Creators could
destroy their small army by sending out mobile emitters to meet them.
Silence reigned long after Zef had finished his story. Maxim continued
to sit there, his head hanging down as he scratched the dry black soil with
a twig.. Then Zef coughed and said awkwardly: "Yes, that's the way it is."
"What are you counting on?" asked Maxim.
Zef and Vepr remained silent. Maxim raised his head, saw their faces
and muttered: "I'm sorry. I... it's all so... I'm sorry."