"Harry Harrison - Captive Universe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

"No, mother," he said patiently, "it is not forbidden to climb the cliff—it is forbidden to climb the cliff to
attempt to leave the valley, that is the law as Tezcatlipoca said it. But it is also permitted to climb the cliffs
to the height of three men to take birds' eggs, or for other important reasons. I was only two men high on
the cliff and I was after birds' eggs. That is the law."

"If—that is the law, why were you beaten?" She sat back on her heels, frowning in concentration.

"They did not remember the law and did not agree with me and they had to look it up in the book which
took a long tune—and when they did they found I was right and they were wrong." He smiled, coldly. It
was not a boy's smile at all. "So then they beat me because I had argued with priests and set myself
above them."

"As so they should have." She rose and poured some water from the jug to rinse her hands. "You must
learn your place. You must not argue with priests."

For almost all of his life Chimal had been hearing this, or words like it, and had long since learned that the
best answer was no answer. Even when he worked hard to explain his thoughts and feelings his mother
never understood. It was far better to keep these thoughts to himself.

Particularly since he had lied to everyone. He had been trying to climb the cliff; the birds' eggs were just a
ready excuse in case he were discovered.

"Stay here and eat," Quiauh said, putting a child's evening portion of two tortillas before him, dry, flat
corn-cakes over a foot wide. "I will make atolli while you eat these."

Chimal sprinkled salt on the tortilla and tore off a piece which he chewed on slowly, watching his mother
through the open door of the house as she bent over the fire stones and stirred the pot. She was at ease
now, the fear and the beating finished and forgotten, her typical Aztec features relaxed, with the firelight
glinting from her golden hair and blue eyes. He felt very close to her; they had been alone in this house
since his father had died when Chimal had been very young. Yet at the same time he felt so distant He
could explain nothing to her about the things that troubled him.

He sat up to eat the atolli when his mother brought it to him, spooning up the corn gruel with a piece of
tortilla. It was rich and filling, deliciously flavored with honey and hot chillies. His back was feeling better
as were his arms: the bleeding had stopped where the skin had been broken by the whipping stick. He
drank cool water from the small pot and looked up at the darkening sky. Above the cliffs, to the west,
the sky was red as fire and against it soared the zopilote vultures, black silhouettes that vanished and
reappeared. He watched until the light faded from the sky and they were gone. That was the spot where
he started to climb the cliff; they were the reason he had climbed it.

The stars were out, sharp and sparkling in the clear air, while inside the house the familiar work noises
had ceased. There was just a rustle as his mother unrolled her petlatl on the sleeping platform, then she
called to him.

"It is time to sleep."

"I'll sleep here for awhile, the air is cool on my back."

Her voice was troubled. "It is not right to sleep outside, everyone sleeps inside."
"Just for a little while, no one can see me, then I will come in."