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forehead.
"Are you alone, Don Rumata?" he asked hastily.
"Yes, noble don," Rumata answered, depressed.
Father Kabani's voice thundered suddenly: "Noble Don Reba!
You are a
hyena, that's what you are!"
Don Kondor did not pay any attention to him. He did not
even turn
around.
"I've come with the helicopter," he said.
"Let's hope nobody saw you."
One legend more or less. "What's the difference?" answered Don
Kondor
in a somewhat irritated voice. "I've simply not the time to ride
around on a
horse. What's happened with Budach? I'm worried about him. Do sit
down, Don
Rumata, will you please? I'm getting a crick in my neck this way."
Rumata obediently took a seat on the bench.
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Arkadi and Boris Strugatski. Hard to be a god
"Budach has disappeared," he said. "I waited for him at the
Square of
the Heavy Swords. The only person that came was a one-eyed
vagabond, who
gave the password and handed me a bag full of books. I waited for
another
two hours; then I got in touch with Don Hug, who told me he took
Budach as
far as the border. Budach was in the company of some noble don, a
man who
could be trusted since he had lost everything at a game of cards
with Don
Hug and therefore sold himself over, body and soul. Consequently,
Budach
must be somewhere here in Arkanar. That's all I know."
"Not much, I dare say," remarked Don Kondor.
"But the affair with Budach is not that important," replied
Rumata. "If
he is still alive, I'll find him and extricate him from any tight
spot he
might be in. That's no problem really. But this wasn't what I
wanted to
discuss with you. I must once more draw your attention to the fact
that the
situation in Arkanar is exceeding the bounds of the basis theory--"
Don Kondor made a sour face.
"No, no, hear me out," said Rumata firmly. "I have the feeling
I can
never make myself properly understood over the radio. And in
Arkanar
everything is helter-skelter! A new, systematically effective
factor has
made its appearance. It looks as if Don Reba is intentionally
hurtling the
whole depressing Grayness of the kingdom on the scientists. Anyone
who rises
even slightly above the average Gray level puts his life in jeopardy.
Listen
to me, Don Kondor! These are no vague, emotional impressions, these
are real
facts! It's enough to be intelligent and educated, to dare to have
doubts,
to say something out of the ordinary. Perhaps if some day you refuse
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Arkadi and Boris Strugatski. Hard to be a god
a glass
of wine, your life will be in danger. Any little grocery clerk can
beat you
to death. Hundreds, thousands of people are being denounced. They are
caught
by the Sturmoviks, strung up by their feet in the streets. Naked,
with their
head dangling down. Only yesterday they trampled an old man to
death in my
street with their boots: somebody told them he could read and
write. They
kept kicking him for two hours, these stupid pigs with their
beastly
drooling snouts--"
Rumata paused for a moment to collect himself and ended in
a calm
voice: "To sum it all up, it won't be long now until not a
single
intelligent person will remain alive in Arkanar. Just like in the
domain of
the Holy Order after the slaughter of Barkan."
Don Kondor fixed his dark eyes on Rumata and pressed his lips
together.
"I don't like what's happening with you, Anton," he said in
Russian.
"There are lots of things I don't like either, Alexander
Vassilevitch,"
said Rumata. "For instance, I don't like the fact that we have tied
our own
hands, the way we have set up our problem here. I don't like the
fact that
we call it the 'problem of bloodless procedure.' For as far
as I am
concerned, this is equivalent to scientific justification of
inactivity. I
know all your arguments! And I am well acquainted with our
theories. But
theories do not work in such a situation, where every minute human
beings
are attacked by wild beasts in a typical fascist manner! Everything
is going
to pieces, going to rack and rum. What good is our knowledge and
our gold?
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Arkadi and Boris Strugatski. Hard to be a god
It always comes too late."
"Anton," said Don Kondor, "calm down. I believe you when you
say that
the situation in Arkanar has reached a critical point. But I
am also
convinced that you cannot propose a single constructive solution."
"That's true," agreed Rumata. "I have no concrete solutions to
propose.
But it gets to be more and more difficult for me to control myself
in view
of these increasing signs of physical and moral corruption."
"Anton," said Don Kondor. "There are 250 of us altogether
on this
entire planet. All of us exercise effective self-control, and it is
equally
difficult for all of us. The most experienced among us have lived
here for
twenty-two years. They came only as observers, nothing else.
They are
forbidden to intervene here in any way. Just imagine: an out-and-out
ban on
any intervention. We don't have the right to rescue Budach, even
if they
trampled him to death in front of our eyes."
"You don't need to talk to me as if I were a child," said Rumata.
"But you are as impatient as a child," replied Don Kondor.
"And you
must display a lot of patience here."
Rumata laughed bitterly.
"And while we are practicing patience and waiting forever,"
he said,
"holding endless discussions about the proper ways to behave, these
beasts
are attacking their fellow human beings every day, every single
minute."
"Anton," said Don Kondor, "there are thousands of other planets
in the
universe which we have not yet visited and where history runs its
course."
"But we did come to this planet!"
"Yes. Not to vent our righteous anger, but rather to
help these
creatures here. If you're too weak for the job, then get out! Go
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Arkadi and Boris Strugatski. Hard to be a god
back home!
After all, you're not a child. You knew what to expect here."
Rumata did not speak. Don Kondor's features relaxed; he seemed
to have
aged many years during his last words. Slowly he strode the length
of the
table, seized his sword and dragged it behind him like a stick.
Then he
lapsed into an almost imperceptible, sad shaking of his head; only
his nose
seemed to move.
"I can understand all that," he said. "I've gone through all
of this
myself. There were times when this sensation of personal impotence,
my own
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