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

half cocked. Just one example. Remember when the ancient
Hellenes exploded into the Mediterranean? A score of different
city-states began sending out colonies, which in turn sprouted
colonies of their own. Take Syracuse, on Sicily. Hardly was she
established than, bingo, she sent off colonies to Southern Italy, and
they in turn to Southern France, Corsica, the Balearics. Greeks
were exploding all over the place, largely without adequate plans,
without rhyme or reason. Take Alexander. Roamed off all the way
to India, founding cities and colonies of Greeks all along the way.”
The older man shifted in his chair. “You wonder what I’m
getting at, eh? Well, much the same thing is happening in man’s
explosion into space, now that he has the ability to leave the solar
system behind. Dashing off half cocked, in all directions. He’s
flowing out over this section of the galaxy without plan, without
rhyme or reason.” He paused, frowning. “I take that last back. He
has reasons, all right—some of the screwiest. Religious reasons,
racial reasons, idealistic reasons, political reasons, altruistic reasons
and mercenary reasons.
“Inadequate ships, manned by small numbers of inadequate
people, setting out to find their own planets, to establish
themselves on one of the numberless uninhabited worlds that offer
themselves to colonization and exploitation.”
Ronny cleared his throat. “Well, isn’t that a good thing, sir?”
Ross Metaxa looked at him and grunted. “What difference
does it make if it’s good or not? It’s happening. We’re spreading
our race out over tens of hundreds of new worlds in the most
haphazard fashion. As a result, we of United Planets now have a
chaotic mishmash on our hands. How we manage to keep as many
planets in the organization as we do sometimes baffles me. I
suppose most of them are afraid to drop out, conscious of the
protection UP gives against each other.”
He picked up a report. “Here’s Monet, originally colonized by
a bunch of painters, writers, musicians and such. They had dreams
of starting a new race”—Metaxa snorted—“with everybody artists.
They were all so impractical that they even managed to crash their
ship on landing. For three hundred years they were uncontacted.
What did they have in the way of government by that time? A
military theocracy, something like the Aztecs of Pre-Conquest
Mexico. A matriarchy, at that. And what’s their religion based on?
That of ancient Phoenicia, including plenty of human sacrifice to
good old Moloch. What can United Planets do about it, now that
they’ve become a member? Work away very delicately, trying to get
them to at least eliminate the child sacrifice phase of their culture.
Will they do it? Hell, no, not if they can help it. The Head Priestess
and her clique are afraid that if they don’t have the threat of
sacrifice to hold over the people, they’ll be overthrown.”
Ronny was surprised. “I’d never heard of a member planet
like that. Monet?”
Metaxa sighed. “No, of course not. You’ve got a lot to learn,
Ronny, my lad. First of all, what’re Articles One and Two of the