"Mack Reynolds - North Africa 01 - Blackman's Burden" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

the land."

"It is a flood of evil," Moussa-ag-Amastan said definitely.

But in spite of the antagonism of the clan headman and of the older
Tuareg warriors, the stories of the smiths continued to spread. It was not
even beyond them to discuss, long and quietly, with the Bela slaves the
ideas of the mysterious El Hassan, and to talk of the plentiful jobs, the
high wages, at the dams, at the new oases, and in the afforestation
projects.

Somehow the news of their presence spread, and another clan of nomad
Tuareg arrived and pitched their tents, to handle the wares of the smiths
and to bring their metal work for repair. And to listen to their disturbing
words.

As amazing as any of the new products was the solar powered, portable
television set which charged its batteries during the daylight hours and
then flashed on its screen the images and the voices and music of
entertainers and lecturers, teachers and storytellers, for all to see. In the
beginning it had been difficult, for the eye of the desert man is not trained
to pick up a picture. He has never seen one, and would not recognize his
own photograph. But in time it came to them.

The programs originated in Tamanrasset and In Salah, in Zinder and
Fort Lamy, and one of the smiths revealed that the mysterious waves that
fed the device its programs were bounced off tiny moons which the Rouma
had rocketed up into the sky for that purpose. A magic understandable
only to marabouts and such, without doubt.

At the end of their period of stay the smiths, to the universal surprise of
all, gave the mystery device to two sisters, kinswomen of
Moussa-ag-Amastan, who were particularly interested in the teachers and
lecturers who told of the new world aborning. The gift was made in the full
understanding that all should be allowed to listen and watch, and it was
clear that if ever the set needed repair it was to be left untinkered with
and taken to Tamanrasset or the nearest larger settlement where it would
be fixed free of charge.

There were many strange features about the smiths, as each man could
see. Among others were their strange weapons. There had been some soft
whispered discussion among the warriors in the first two days of their stay
about relieving the strangers of their obviously desirable
possessions—after all, they weren't kinsmen, nor even Tuareg. But on the
second day, the always smiling one named Abrahim el Bakr had been on
the outskirts of the erg when a small group of gazelle were flushed. The
graceful animals took off at a prohibitive rifle range, as usual, but
Abrahim el Bakr had thrown his small, all but tiny, weapon to his shoulder
and flic flic flic, with a sound no greater than the cracking of a ground nut,
had knocked over three of them before the others had disappeared around