"L. E. Modesitt - The Ecolitan Institute 01 - Ecologic Envoy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

He shrugged, took a tighter grip on his datacase, and went in.

The room was paneled in lorkin wood. The desk and chairs were all carved from it as well. Restinal noted that the
furniture all matched, each piece done in the spare style termed Ecolog.

Behind the desk, which was really a wide table with a single drawer, sat a silver-haired man, laugh lines radiating
from the bright green eyes. Restinal mentally compared the face against the ones shown him by Delward before he'd
left Harmony. He struggled momentarily before realizing that the man was the Prime Ecolitan himself, Gairloch Pittsway.
For some reason, Restinal hadn't expected to be met by the Prime himself, much less in an empty office without aides.
"You wonder about the absence of subordinates?"

"Exactly," responded the Delegate Minister for Interstellar Commerce.

"You shouldn't, not if you've followed the precepts of the Institute. Unnecessary subordinates are a sign of
weakness. Our fault that most no longer know the precepts, no doubt, since the Iron Rules are no longer popular in the
schools' curricula."

Restinal didn't have the faintest idea what the Prime was talking about. He kept his face blank.

"I realize you don't understand what I'm jabbering on about, Werlin, but don't worry about it. If you don't
understand it instinctively, it would take more time than either of us has for me to explain what I mean. Power is the
question now.

"Neither the Orthodoxists nor the Normists have the power to force their choice for Trade Envoy to New Augusta
upon the other. The Supreme Justiciary passed the choice back to the House, ruling that the selection has to be made
by the political arm of the government. You're stuck. And you don't like the Institute all that much, since we are the
sole remaining traditional structure still respected by the masses you professional politicians cultivate so assiduously.
Both you and the Orthodoxists would like ' to reduce the influence of the Institute more than the passage of time and
the ravages of peace have already done.

"Forcing a choice upon the Institute, with the attendant publicity, solves all your problems. Neither party has to
take responsibility for the choice. If our selection succeeds, then you will take credit, and if he fails, we take the
blame."

"That is conjecture, respected Prime," responded Restinal.

"Gairloch or Prime. None of that 'respected' hypocrisy, please." The Ecolitan smiled, the open smile of a man at
peace with himself or as if at a child's joke, before he went on. "The Institute attempts to minimize dealing with
speculations or conjectures. I doubt that my analysis is anything but factual. I respect, however, the position in which
you have been placed by the operation of the political machinery."

The Prime Ecolitan stood and walked from behind the table toward the still-standing Restinal.

"Please sit down. I forget that politicians all too often stand on ceremony."

Restinal's knees felt rubbery, and he eased himself into one of the carved high-backed chairs. Although the chair
was not upholstered, the flowing curves of the wood seemed to welcome him.

The Prime poured a cup of water from a crystal pitcher and placed it on the table next to Restinal before he returned
to his chair behind the desk.