"Mack Reynolds - Planetary Agent X" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

like this. They have a limited number of monks—I suppose you’d
call them that—who spend their time at whatever moves them. At
the arts, at scientific research, at religious contemplation—any
religion will do—as students of anything and everything, and at the
governing of Shangri-La. They make a point of enjoying the
luxuries in moderation and aren’t a severe drain on the rank and
file citizens of the planet.”
Ronny said, “I have a growing distrust of hierarchies. Who
decides who is to become a monk and who remain a member of
the rank and file?”
 The captain said, “A series of the best tests they can devise to
determine a person’s intelligence and aptitudes. From earliest
youth, the whole populace is checked and re-checked. At the age of
thirty, when it is considered that a person has become an adult and
has finished his basic education, a limited number are offered
monkhood. Not all want it.”
Ronny thought about it. “Why not? What are the
shortcomings?”
The captain shrugged. “Responsibility, I suppose.”
“The monks aren’t allowed sex, booze, that sort of thing, I
imagine.”
“Good heavens, why not? In moderation, of course.”
“And they live on a higher scale?”
“No, no, not at all. Don’t misunderstand. The planet is a
prosperous one. Exceedingly prosperous. There is everything
needed for comfortable existence for everyone. Shangri-La is one
planet where the pursuit of happiness is pursuable by all.” Captain
Woiski chuckled again.
Ronny said, “It sounds good enough, although I’m leary of
benevolent dictatorships. The trouble with them is that it’s up to
the dictators to decide what’s benevolent. And almost always,
nepotism rears its head, favoritism of one sort or another. How
long will it be before one of your moderate monks decides he’ll
moderately tinker with the tests, or whatever, just to be sure his
favorite nephew makes the grade? A high I.Q. is no guarantee of
integrity.”
The captain didn’t disagree. “That’s always possible, I
suppose. One guard against it, in this case, is the matter of motive.
The privilege of being a monk isn’t as great as all that. Materially,
you aren’t particularly better off than anyone else. You have more
leisure, that’s true, but actually most of them are so caught up in
their studies or research that they put in more hours of endeavor
than does the fanner or industrial worker on Shangri-La.”
“Well,” Ronny said, “let’s just hope that Tommy Paine never
hears of this place.”
“Who?” the captain said.
Ronny Bronston reversed his engines. “Oh, nobody
important. A guy I know of.”
Captain Woiski scowled. “Seems to me I’ve heard the name.”
At first Ronny leaned forward with quick interest. Perhaps the