"Harlan Ellison - Paingod & Other Delusions" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ellison Harlan)

that sent Colin Marshack’s hand into spasms. It had been done two years before-by Colin Marshack’s time-but only
a few moments earlier as Trente knew it. And now it had changed this creature’s life totally. Trente watched the
strange human being, a product of little introverted needs and desires. And he knew he must go further, must
experiment further with his problem. The green and transparent vapor that was Trente seeped out of the eyes of
Pieter Koslek, and slid carefully inside Colin Marshack. It left itself wide open, flung itself wide open, to what
tremors governed the man. And Trente felt the full impact of the pain he so lightly dispensed to all the living things
in the universes. It was potent hot all! And it was a further knowing, a greater knowledge, a simple act that the
sickness had compelled him to undertake. By the fear and the memory of all the fears that had gone before, Trente
knew, and knowing, had to go further. For he was Paingod. not a transient tourist in the country of pain. He drew
forth the mind of Marshack, of that weak and trembling Colin Marshack, and fled with it. Out. Out there. Further.
Much further. Till time came to a slithering halt and space was no longer of any consequence. And he whirled Colin
Marshack through the universes. Through the infinite allness of the space and time and motion and meaning that
was the crevice into which Life had sunk itself He saw the blobs of mud and the whirling winged things and the tall
humanoids and the cleat-treaded half-men/half-machines that ruled one and another sector of open space. He
showed it all to Colin Marshack, drenched him in wonder, filled him like the most vital goblet the Ethos had ever
created, poured him full of love and life and the staggering beauty of the cosmos. And having done that, he whirled
the soul and spirit of Colin Marshack down down and down to the fibrous shell that was his body, and poured that
soul back inside. Then he walked the shell to the home of Colin Marshack...and turned it loose. And...

When the sculptor awoke, lying face down amidst the marble chips and powder-fine dust of the statue, he
saw the base first; and not having recalled even buying a chunk of stone that large, raised himself on his hands, and
his knees, and his haunches, and sat there, and his eyes went up toward the summit, and seemed to go on forever, and
when he finally saw what it was he had created-this thing of such incredible loveliness and meaning and wisdom-he
began to sob. Softly, never very loud, but deeply, as though each whimper was drawn from the very core of him.
He had done it this once, but as he saw his hands still trembling, still murmuring to themselves in spasms, he
knew it was the one time he would ever do it. There was no memory of how, or why, or even of when...but it was his
work, of that he was certain. The pain in his wrists told him it was.
The moment of truth stood high above him, resplendent in marble, but there would be no other moments.
This was Colin Marshack’s life, in its totality, now. The sound of sobbing was only broken periodically, as he
began to drink.

Waiting. The Ethos waited. Trente had known they would. It was inevitable. Foolish for him to conceive of a
situation of which they would not have an awareness.
Away. From your post, away.
“I had to know. It has been growing in me, a live thing in me. I had to know. It was the only way. I went to a
planet, and lived within what they call ‘men’ and knew. I think I understand now.”
Know. What is it you know?
“I know that pain is the most important thing in the universes. Greater than survival, greater than love, greater
even than the beauty it brings about. For without pain there can be no pleasure. Without sadness there can be no
happiness. Without misery, there can be no beauty. And without these, life is endless, hopeless, doomed and damned.
“
Adult. You have become adult.
“I know...this is what became of the other Paingods before me. They grew into concern, into knowing, and
then...”
Lost. They were lost to us.
 “They could not take the step; they could not go to one of the ones to whom they had sent pain, and learn.
So they were no use as Paingod. I understand. Now I know, and I am returned.”
Do. What will you do?
“I will send more pain than ever before. More and greater.”
More? You will send more?