"Emil Petaja - The Prism" - читать интересную книгу автора (Petaja Emil)

and sex-ploration. After all, youngsters have to experiment. It's part of
growing up. Why? Has Sena—?”
“Only three times.” Sena giggled. “I had a ball.”
Gold Dorff concealed his private wink from her father.
“But the drugs!”
“Nothing to worry yourself about, Gold Ambon. Teens must have their
secret wickednesses to prove superiority to the old guard. Just so long as
the Color Code is rigidly observed. The Color Code is of peak importance in
our great society. His Goldness IX gives the Lechs his blessing, which
surely is enough for parents and teeners alike.”
The significance of his veiled look was not lost on Gold Ambon.
“Of course! Of course!” the old man said hastily. He lifted his right hand
up, clenched fist and opened his fingers twice in rapid succession. Then,
the middle finger jabbed the air straight up.
The Sign.
 III
A Black moved in silently at Gold Ambon's flustered beckon to refill their
glasses of golden stimulant. No one paid him any more attention than if
were part of the furniture until Gold Dorff crushed out his current cigarette
on the back of the man's hand when the ashtray was not forthcoming as
fast as needed. The Black made a small sound before backing quickly out of
the room.
“Blacks don't feel pain, do they, Uncle Dorff?” Sena remarked.
“What difference if they do?” The illustrious one's eyes narrowed at the
“Uncle,” thoughtfully.
“They're like the ancient Negro slaves from China.”
“Africa, child. No. Not a bit like them except for, of course, the coding.
Oh, I suppose some dim vestige of identification lingered after the Racial
Wars. But all that was such a long time ago and beyond the pale. No,
Sena. Code Black for lowest class menials was selected by His Goldness
simply because the color black is so distinctive. Like everyone else, Blacks
are pigmented in code at birth. Before, actually, in the mech-decanters.
Blacks are pigment-coded and conditioned for low-grade servants and
subsequently non-educated and fed accordingly.”
“His Goldness IX started the Prism Complex, didn't he, Uncle Dorff?” she
asked, dimpling.
“Not exactly. His Goldness IX is our current World Head. The whole
thing began with His Goldness I. And, as I implied, the Color Code has
nothing whatever to do with ethnic groups or races. The Race Wars came
centuries before. The Code has its basis in sociological and economic
factors of our society. When it was finally admitted that mankind being
created 'equal' was meaningless gibberish and the Judeo-Christian religion
was scrapped along with all the others, His Goldness I freed mankind from
muddlement and slavery by designing the Code Complex, popularly called
the Prism, as it is where every human is coded at birth and conditioned
through selective and deprivational feeding of body and mind toward his
ultimate use in the world. He is coded at birth and must remain so until he
dies.”
“There have been some exceptions?” Gold Ambon ventured.
“A few. Marriage or quixotic inheritance sometimes causes an upgrading,