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The Stars My Destination ( Tiger! Tiger! ) :: Bester Alfred
Страница: 159 из 164Am I to turn PyrE over to the world and let it destroy itself? Am I to teach the world how to space-jaunte and let us spread our freak show from galaxy to galaxy through all the universe? What's the answer?»
The bartender robot hurled its mixing glass across the room with a resounding crash. In the amazed silence that followed, Dagenham grunted: «Damn! My radiation's disrupted your dolls again, Presteign.»
«The answer is yes,» the robot said, quite distinctly.
«What?» Foyle asked, taken aback.
«The answer to your question is yes.»
«Thank you,» Foyle said.
«My pleasure, sir,» the robot responded. «A man is a member of society first, and an individual second. You must go along with society, whether it chooses destruction or not.»
«Completely haywire,» Dagenham said impatiently. «Switch it off, Presteign.»
«Wait,» Foyle commanded. He looked at the beaming grin engraved in the steel robot face. «But society can be so stupid. So confused. You've witnessed this conference.»
«Yes, sir, but you must teach, not dictate. You must teach society.»
«To space-jaunte? Why? Why reach out to the stars and galaxies? What for?»
«Because you're alive, sir. You might as well ask: Why is life? Don't ask about it. Live it.»
«Quite mad,» Dagenham muttered.
«But fascinating,» Y'ang-Yeovil murmured.
«There's got to be more to life than just living,» Foyle said to the robot. «Then find it for yourself, sir. Don't ask the world to stop moving because you have doubts.»
«Why can't we all move forward together?»
«Because you're all different. You're not lemmings. Some must lead, and hope that the rest will follow.»
«Who leads?»
«The men who must. . . driven men, compelled men.»
«Freak men.»
«You're all freaks, sir. But you always have been freaks. Life is a freak. That's its hope and glory.»
«Thank you very much.»
«My pleasure, sir.»
«You've saved the day.»
«Always a lovely day somewhere, sir,» the robot beamed. Then it fizzed, jangled, and collapsed.
Foyle turned on the others. «That thing's right,» he said, «and you're wrong. Who are we, any of us, to make a decision for the world? Let the world make its own decisions. Who are we to keep secrets from the world? Let the world know and decide for itself. Come to Old St. Pat's.»
He jaunted; they followed. The square block was still cordoned and by now an enormous crowd had gathered. So many of the rash and curious were jaunting into the smoking ruins that the police had set up a protective induction field to keep them out.
The bartender robot hurled its mixing glass across the room with a resounding crash. In the amazed silence that followed, Dagenham grunted: «Damn! My radiation's disrupted your dolls again, Presteign.»
«The answer is yes,» the robot said, quite distinctly.
«What?» Foyle asked, taken aback.
«The answer to your question is yes.»
«Thank you,» Foyle said.
«My pleasure, sir,» the robot responded. «A man is a member of society first, and an individual second. You must go along with society, whether it chooses destruction or not.»
«Completely haywire,» Dagenham said impatiently. «Switch it off, Presteign.»
«Wait,» Foyle commanded. He looked at the beaming grin engraved in the steel robot face. «But society can be so stupid. So confused. You've witnessed this conference.»
«Yes, sir, but you must teach, not dictate. You must teach society.»
«To space-jaunte? Why? Why reach out to the stars and galaxies? What for?»
«Because you're alive, sir. You might as well ask: Why is life? Don't ask about it. Live it.»
«Quite mad,» Dagenham muttered.
«But fascinating,» Y'ang-Yeovil murmured.
«There's got to be more to life than just living,» Foyle said to the robot. «Then find it for yourself, sir. Don't ask the world to stop moving because you have doubts.»
«Why can't we all move forward together?»
«Because you're all different. You're not lemmings. Some must lead, and hope that the rest will follow.»
«Who leads?»
«The men who must. . . driven men, compelled men.»
«Freak men.»
«You're all freaks, sir. But you always have been freaks. Life is a freak. That's its hope and glory.»
«Thank you very much.»
«My pleasure, sir.»
«You've saved the day.»
«Always a lovely day somewhere, sir,» the robot beamed. Then it fizzed, jangled, and collapsed.
Foyle turned on the others. «That thing's right,» he said, «and you're wrong. Who are we, any of us, to make a decision for the world? Let the world make its own decisions. Who are we to keep secrets from the world? Let the world know and decide for itself. Come to Old St. Pat's.»
He jaunted; they followed. The square block was still cordoned and by now an enormous crowd had gathered. So many of the rash and curious were jaunting into the smoking ruins that the police had set up a protective induction field to keep them out.