"L. E. Modesitt - Recluce 07 - The magic Engineer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

Dorrin looks toward Arcol, whose mouth is open like a dying fish. He ignores the glimmer in
Kadara's eyes as she watches Brede, who, in turn, disregards that warmth bestowed upon him.


XII

"WHY DO I have to study weapons?" protests the wiry youth.
"First, we live in an uncertain world," says the muscular white-haired woman. "Second, because
the skills will improve your physical condition and mental processes. And third, because you will
need them in Candar."
"What? I'm not going to Candar. It's dangerous there."
The white-haired woman smiles, and her eyes twinkle. "You're not going today, but you will go-
along with a few others, like your Mend Kadara."
"Why is Kadara going?"
"For the same reason you are."
"Because we don't understand what a wonderful place we live in?"
"Not exactly. Because you don't understand why it is a wonderful place."
"But I do."
"Then why do you use every free minute to sketch machines or build models of things that do not
fit into our world?"
"But they could. The ones I think about are the ones you could use with order. I mean, you
could forge them with black steel-"


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"Dorrin . . . listen to what you're saying. You're admitting that there is no place for them.
Who could build these machines? What smith could handle that much black iron? And who could use
them?"
"You could," Dorrin states. *
"But why? Our fields are more bountiful than any in the world. Our healers keep us healthy and
happy. Our stone and timber homes are solid and warm and proof against all elements. Our crafts
are becoming known as the finest on the Eastern Ocean. And chaos is excluded."
"But things could be so much better."
"Better in what way? Would your machines make people happier or healthier? Would they make the
crops stronger? The trees straighter or taller? Or would they require ripping open the mountains
for more iron? Or digging through fertile fields for the coal that lies beneath?"
"But it doesn't have to be that way."
"Listen to your own words, Dorrin. Each time that I have said something, you have said 'but.'
Doesn't that say that you believe my words, but feel that the machines are worth more than the
pain they will create?"
Dorrin cannot dispute her, yet something is missing, something he cannot exactly name or place.
"It isn't that way at all, but I cannot tell you why."
Lortren shrugs. "You may be right. Darkness knows that you've taught me a thing or two. But-and
it's my turn to admit things-you cannot object to what is. You must find the understanding within
you not just to build your machines, but to ensure that they improve our way of life. You will
never gain that understanding here on Recluce."
Dorrin looks helplessly at the desk in the corner of the study, with the row of texts. The
faintest of breezes bearing the tang of the Eastern Ocean cools the dampness on his forehead.