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

The Secret Police

Well after midnight, the Leyden jug from which the constructors had on occasion refreshed
themselves in the course of their labors was quietly taken to the headquarters of the King's
secret police, where its false bottom was opened and a tiny tape recorder removed. This the
experts switched on and listened to eagerly, but the rising sun found them totally
unenlightened and looking haggard. One voice, for example, would say:
“Well? Is the King ready?”
“Right!”
“Where'd you put him? Over there? Good! Now—hold on, you have to keep the feet
together. Not yours, idiot, the King's! All right now, ready? One, two, find the derivative!
Quick! What do you get?”
“Pi.”
“And the beast?”
“Under the radical sign. But look, the King's still standing!”
“Still standing, eh? Factor both sides, divide by two, throw in a few imaginary
numbers—good! Now change variables and subtract—Trurl, what on earth are you doing?! The
beast, not the King, the beast! That's right! Good! Perfect!! Now transform, approximate and
solve for x. Do you have it?”
“I have it! Klapaucius! Look at the King now!!”
There was a pause, then a burst of wild laughter.
That same morning, as all the experts and high officials of the secret police shook their
heads, bleary-eyed after a sleepless night, the constructors asked for quartz, vanadium,
steel, copper, platinum, rhinestones, dysprosium, yttrium and thulium, also cerium and
germanium, and most of the other elements that make up the Universe, plus a variety of
machines and qualified technicians, not to mention a wide as sortment of spies—for so
insolent had the constructors become, that on the triplicate requisition form they boldly
wrote: “Also, kindly send agents of various cuts and stripes at the discretion and with the
approval of the Proper Authorities.” The next day they asked for sawdust and a large red
velvet curtain on a stand, a cluster of little glass bells in the center and a large tassel at each
of its four corners; everything, even down to the littlest glass bell, was specified with the
utmost precision. The King scowled when he heard these requests, but ordered them to be
carried out to the letter, for he had given his royal word. The constructors were thus granted
all that they wished.
All that they wished grew more and more outlandish. For instance, in the files of the secret
police under code number 48ggg/llK/T was a copy of a requisition for three tailor's mannequins
as well as six full police uniforms, complete with sash, side arm, shako, plume and handcuffs,
also all available back issues of the magazine The Patriotic Policeman, yearbooks and
supplements included—under “Comments” the constructors had guaranteed the return of all
items listed above within twenty-four hours of delivery and in perfect condition. In another,
classified section of the police archives was a copy of a letter from Klapaucius in which he
demanded the immediate shipment of ( 1 ) a life size doll representing the Postmaster General
in full regalia, and (2) a light gig painted green with a kerosene lamp on the left and a sky-blue
sign on the back that said THINK. The doll and gig proved too much for the Chief of Police: he
had to be taken away for a much-needed rest. During the next three days the constructors
asked only for barrels of red castor oil, and after that—nothing.
From then on, they worked in the basement of the palace, hammering away and singing
space chanteys, and at night blue lights came flashing from the basement windows and gave
weird shapes to the trees in the garden outside. Trurl and Klapaucius with their many helpers