"Eric Frank Russell - Basic Right" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russell Eric Frank)

It was evident that the place had been prepared with a lavishness that had no regard for cost. A
world had been looted to gratify the one who could vaporize it from poles to core. Three thousand
million animals had combined to pay the heavy premium on a fire-insurance policy.
Zalumar approved; even he could not dig up a lordly quibble. There was only one snag: The palace
lay two thousand miles from the spaceport, the city, the seat of world-government. There was only one
solution: he ordered a new spaceport built on the fringe of his estate. This was done and his ten-ship fleet
moved to the new location.
Next, he commanded the entire world leadership to set up home immediately outside his guarded
gates. Nobody moaned, groaned, raised objections, or so much as favored him with a disapproving
frown. There was a rush of prefabricated buildings to the designated spot, and a new township sprang
into being complete with a huge web of telephone wires and a powerful radio station.
Meanwhile Zalumar had taken possession of his property. The transfer was made without ceremony;
he merely stalked in at the front door as becomes one who literally owns the earth. His first move was to
assign apartments in the west wing to his senior officers, inferior ones in the east wing to his twenty-one
Terran stooges. This tactic helped populate a great emptiness, provided company, ensured a constant
supply of adulation or, at least, dumb agreement.
"Aie!" he sighed with pleasure. "Is this not better than squatting in a hot can and being hammered day
after day for the greater glory of others but never of ourselves?"
"Yes, sire," dutifully approved Heisham.
Lakin said nothing.
"We shall now reap the rewards of our virtues," continued Zalumar. "We shall live the life of . . .
of—" He felt around in his jacket, produced a small pocket book and consulted it. "A character named
Reilly."
"I have heard him mentioned by the Terrans," said Heisham. "And I imagine this is just the sort of
place he'd have." He let admiring eyes survey the room, finished, "I wonder who did own it and what has
happened to him."
"We can soon learn," Zalumar answered. "A Terran has just crossed the hall. Go get him and bring
him here."
Heisham hastened out, came back with Vitelli.
"'To whom did this place belong?" demanded Zalumar.
"To nobody." Vitelli favored him with his usual oily smile. "Nobody?"
"No, sire. Previously this was the world's largest and latest international hospital.'
"And just what is a hospital?"
The smile faded away, Vitelli blinked a couple of times and told him.
Zalumar listened incredulously, said, "An individual who is sick or injured is either capable or
incapable of recovering. He can regain his efficiency or he is permanently useless. One thing or the
other—there is no third alternative. That is logical, isn't it?"
"I suppose so," responded Vitelli, with reluctance.
"You don't suppose anything," Zalumar contradicted in louder tones. "You know for a fact that it is
logical because I have said that it is. And say 'sire' when you answer me!"
"Yes, sire."
"If an individual can recover, he should be left to do it as best he can; he has every inducement to
succeed, knowing the penalty of failure. If he cannot do it, he should be got rid of in the orthodox way;
he should be gassed and cremated. It is sheer waste of time and effort for the fit to coddle the unfit."
He stared hard at Vitelli who offered no remark.
"It is contrary to natural law for the efficient to assist the inefficient who should be left to stew in their
own juice. How many defective bodies were being pampered in this . . . uh . . . hospital?"
"About six thousand," informed Vitelli, again forgetting the "sire." "Where are they now?"
"They were transferred to other hospitals. It has meant a little overcrowding in some places but I
guess things will be straightened out in due time."