"Stanislaw Lem - The Offer Of King Krool" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lem Stanislaw)

kinds of game. Now I'm not interested, you understand, in any mountain of steel on a
hundred-odd treads—that's a job for heavy artillery, not for me. My quarry must be strong and
ferocious, but swift and nimble too, and above all cunning and full of wiles, so that I will have
to call upon all my hunter's art to drive it to the ground. It must be a highly intelligent beast,
and know all there is to know of covering tracks, doubling back, hiding in shadows and lying in
wait, for such is my will!”
“Forgive me, Your Highness,” said Klapaucius with a careful bow, “but if we do Your
Highness' bidding too well, might not this put the royal life and limb in some peril?”
The King roared with such laughter that a couple of crystal pendants fell off a chandelier
and shattered at the feet of the trembling constructors.
“Have ¹fear of that, noble constructors!” he said with a grim smile. “You are not the first,
and you will not be the last, I expect. Know that I am a just but most exacting ruler. Too
often have assorted knaves, flatterers and fakes attempted to deceive me, too often, I say,
have they posed as distinguished hunting engineers, solely to empty my coffers and fill their
sacks with gems and precious stones, leaving me, in return, with a few paltry scarecrows that
fall apart at the first touch. Too often has this happened for me not to take appropriate
measures. For twelve years now any constructor who fails to meet my demands, who
promises more than he is able to deliver, indeed receives his reward, but is hurled, reward and
all, into yon deep well—unless he be game enough (excuse the pun) to serve as the quarry
himself. In which case, gentlemen, I use ¹weapon but these two bare hands...”
“And... and have there been, ah, many such impostors?” asked Trurl in a weak voice.
“Many? That's difficult to say. I only know that ¹one yet has satisfied me, and the scream
of terror they invariably give as they plummet to the bottom doesn't last quite so long as it
used to—the remains, ¹doubt, have begun to mount. But rest assured, gentlemen, there is
room enough still for you!”
A deathly silence followed these dire words, and the two friends couldn't help but look in
the direction of that dark and ominous hole. The King resumed his relentless pacing, his boots
striking the floor like sledge hammers in an echo chamber.
“But, with Your Highness' permission... that is, we—we haven't yet drawn up the contract,”
stammered Trurl. “Couldn't we have an hour or two to think it over, weigh carefully what Your
Highness has been so gracious as to tell us, and then of course we can decide whether to
accept your generous offer or, on the other hand—”
“Ha!!” laughed the King like a thunderclap. “Or, on the other hand, to go home? I'm afraid
not, gentlemen! The moment you set foot on board the Infernanda, you accepted my offer! If
every constructor who came here could leave whenever he pleased, why, I'd have to wait
forever for my fondest hopes to be realized! No, you must stay and build me a beast to hunt.
I give you twelve days, and now you may go. Whatever pleasure you desire, in the meantime,
is yours. You have but to ask the servants I have given you; nothing will be denied you. In
twelve days, then!”
“With Your Highness' permission, you can keep the pleasures, but—well, would it be at all
possible for us to have a look at the, uh, hunting trophies Your Highness must have collected
as a result, so to speak, of the efforts of our predecessors?”
“But of course!” said the King indulgently and clapped his hands with such force that sparks
flew and danced across the silver walls. The gust of air from those powerful palms cooled
even more our constructors' ardor for adventure. Six guards in white and gold appeared and
conducted them down a corridor that twisted and wound like the gullet of a giant serpent.
Finally, to their great relief, it led out into a large, open garden. There, on remarkably
well-trimmed lawns, stood the hunting trophies of King Krool.
Nearest at hand was a saber-toothed colossus, practically cut in two in spite of the heavy
mail and plate armor that was to have protected its trunk; the hind legs, disproportionately