"Robert Reed - The Caldera of Good Fortune" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reed Robert)

THE CALDERA OF GOOD FORTUNE
by Robert Reed

Robert Reed tells us that inspiration for the following story came “a
couple of summers back. My family and I went to Estes Park, in
Colorado, on vacation. It’s a small town on the Front Range, and
since there’s no big snow in winter, the tourists arrive only in
summer. We were riding the local cable car up a mountainside, and
some fellow in his thirties—a local, I gathered—bummed a free ride. I
pieced together that he was a rock climber of some fame. The old
mountain goat was telling stories, working hard to impress a high
schooler with his casual daring. Later, at an outdoor concert, a pair
of summer police officers strolled past. They were young women,
probably in their earliest twenties, and, without question, they were
the prettiest cops I have ever seen. Every man in the crowd watched
them pass. Then my wife quietly muttered, ‘You can feel the
intimidation, can’t you?’ ‘Caldera’ rolled around in my head until I
decided to put it on the Great Ship. And then it proved exceptionally
easy to write.”

****

1

The hamlet was forbidden to wear any name, and, by decree, its population
and borders were never allowed to grow. Tucked inside a high valley, the
tiny community was flanked on three sides by walls of dense, ancient
rock—a black rock flecked with white and dubbed “granite” because of a
passing resemblance to the bones of Old Earth. Stunted forests of
cold-adapted, light-starved trees grew wild on those slopes, while the
caldera’s rim was reserved for native life forms. Visiting the rim required
special permission from the Luckies. Exceptions were allowed when one of
the hamlet’s permanent citizens acted as an Honored Guide. Twenty-five
hundred humans, aliens, and AIs lived permanently in the nameless hamlet.
On the strength of an address, even the laziest among them made good
livings. Passengers came from the far reaches of the Great Ship, eager to
walk the high rim and gaze into the caldera’s magnificent lake. But when the
prolonged winter was finished—when the signs pointed at catastrophic
change—the fattest of the fat times began. The lake began to simmer and
bubble, and news quickly spread among the wealthy everywhere. Suddenly
tens of thousands of strangers would ride the tram into the high valley,
dressed for the brutal cold, happily paying insane fees for the chance to
sleep in somebody’s cellar or attic, or stacked like logs in the back of a little
closet. The hamlet was transformed by these bright cheery souls who sang
drinking songs and spent fortunes on the overpriced food, all while
watching vapor rising from behind the towering rim. Guests were constantly
searching out the natives, asking them when the caldera would finally erupt.
Soon, was the standard reply; unless of course the Luckies decided
otherwise. But how long would the eruption last, if it actually began? Ten
Ship-days was the average—time enough for the entire lake to boil skyward