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The Stars My Destination ( Tiger! Tiger! ) :: Bester Alfred
Страница: 162 из 164Tiger men who can't help lashing the world before them. We're all tigers, the three of us, but who the hell are we to make decisions for the world just because we're compulsive? Let the world make its own choice between life and death. Why should we be saddled with the responsibility?»
«We're not saddled,» Y'ang-Yeovil said quietly. «WTe're driven. We're forced to seize the responsibility that the average man shirks.»
«Then let him stop shirking it. Let him stop tossing his duty and guilt onto the shoulders of the first freak who comes along grabbing at it. Are we to be scapegoats for the world forever?»
«Damn you!» Dagenham raged. «Don't you realize that you can't trust people? They don't know enough for their own good.»
«Then let them learn or die. We're all in this together. Let's live together or die together.»
«D'you want to die in their ignorance? You've got to figure out how we can get those slugs back without blowing everything wide open.»
«No. I believe in them. I was one of them before I turned tiger. They can all turn uncommon if they're kicked awake like I was.»
Foyle shook himself and abruptly jaunted to the bronze head of Eros, fifty feet above the counter of Piccadilly Circus. He perched precariously and bawled: «Listen a me, all you! Listen, man! Gonna sermonize, me. Dig this, you!»
He was answered with a roar.
«You pigs, you. You goof like pigs, is all. You got the most in you, and you use the least. You hear me, you? Got a million in you and spend pennies.
Got a genius in you and think crazies. Got a heart in you and feel empties. All a you. Every you . . .»
He was jeered. He continued with the hysterical passion of the possessed. «Take a war to make you spend. Take a jam to make you think. Take a challenge to make you great. Rest of the time you sit around lazy, you. Pigs, you! All right, God damn you! I challenge you, me. Die or live and be great. Bow yourselves to Christ gone or come and find me, Gully Foyle, and I make you men. I make you great. I give you the stars.»
He disappeared.
He jaunted up the geodesic lines of space-time to an Elsewhere and an Elsewhen. He arrived in chaos. He hung in a precarious para-Now for a moment and then tumbled back into chaos.
«It can be done,» he thought. «It must be done.»
He jaunted again, a burning spear flung from unknown into unknown, and again he tumbled back into a chaos of para-space and para-time. He was lost in Nowhere.
«I believe,» he thought. «I have faith.
«We're not saddled,» Y'ang-Yeovil said quietly. «WTe're driven. We're forced to seize the responsibility that the average man shirks.»
«Then let him stop shirking it. Let him stop tossing his duty and guilt onto the shoulders of the first freak who comes along grabbing at it. Are we to be scapegoats for the world forever?»
«Damn you!» Dagenham raged. «Don't you realize that you can't trust people? They don't know enough for their own good.»
«Then let them learn or die. We're all in this together. Let's live together or die together.»
«D'you want to die in their ignorance? You've got to figure out how we can get those slugs back without blowing everything wide open.»
«No. I believe in them. I was one of them before I turned tiger. They can all turn uncommon if they're kicked awake like I was.»
Foyle shook himself and abruptly jaunted to the bronze head of Eros, fifty feet above the counter of Piccadilly Circus. He perched precariously and bawled: «Listen a me, all you! Listen, man! Gonna sermonize, me. Dig this, you!»
He was answered with a roar.
«You pigs, you. You goof like pigs, is all. You got the most in you, and you use the least. You hear me, you? Got a million in you and spend pennies.
Got a genius in you and think crazies. Got a heart in you and feel empties. All a you. Every you . . .»
He was jeered. He continued with the hysterical passion of the possessed. «Take a war to make you spend. Take a jam to make you think. Take a challenge to make you great. Rest of the time you sit around lazy, you. Pigs, you! All right, God damn you! I challenge you, me. Die or live and be great. Bow yourselves to Christ gone or come and find me, Gully Foyle, and I make you men. I make you great. I give you the stars.»
He disappeared.
He jaunted up the geodesic lines of space-time to an Elsewhere and an Elsewhen. He arrived in chaos. He hung in a precarious para-Now for a moment and then tumbled back into chaos.
«It can be done,» he thought. «It must be done.»
He jaunted again, a burning spear flung from unknown into unknown, and again he tumbled back into a chaos of para-space and para-time. He was lost in Nowhere.
«I believe,» he thought. «I have faith.