"Ian Watson & Roberto Quaglia - The Mass Extinction of My Beloved" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watson Ian)

The Mass Extinction of My Beloved
by Ian Watson and Roberto Quaglia
My Beloved was Brigitte Bardot — one of five hundred Brigitte Bardots, but very special to me.

Due to her iconic importance, firstly as a sex symbol, and secondly as a crusader for animal rights
(including insect rights), the World Wildlife Fund sensibly cloned BB as their special agent and
representative. That was with her permission, of course — she was eager to help. Obviously five
hundred Brigitte Bardots could assist animals (and insects) more than one now-elderly Brigitte could.

To begin with, the clones were all twenty-five years old. Every country in the world received its own
Brigitte. Big countries such as Brazil or Russia received four or five Brigittes. Their duties: to observe and
protect and intervene in animal welfare. They were allowed to use violence if necessary, or seduction.
They were licensed to kill, or to love.

Since I lived in San Marino, the local Brigitte hadn't a great deal of work to do in the way of averting
extinctions, once she had saved the Titanic Spotted Toad (which was in fact tiny, and difficult to spot).
For sixteen centuries this extremely small republic of 20,000 people in north-east Italy had preserved its
independence. San Marino consisted of Mount Titan, which was big and awkward, some wheatfield and
vineyards, a grand prix circuit which was actually in Italy, and thousands of duty-free tourist shops. In
fact most of the inhabitants owned tourist shops, even the thousand men who formed the army of San
Marino.

Another important activity was designing postage stamps for obsessive collectors. I, Count Giuseppe
Machiavelli, was the Minister of Philately, and a direct genetic descendant of Niccoló Machiavelli. I was
also in charge of supplying honours, such as the Knighthood of the Titan, to rich benefactors of our
micro-country by mail-order through the internet.

One day Brigitte came to see me in my tourist shop, which specialises in postage stamps, and I was
enamoured. This was either her intention, or an automatic consequence of her being Bardot. Even so, the
depth of my desire was remarkable. I was astonished. I determined to do anything to be able to possess
her and keep her. So I invited her into a back room, to talk more privately.

"Count Machiavelli," she said as I set a cappucino before her, and one for me too, with a lot of chocolate
sprinkled on because chocolate is an aphrodisiac.

"Giuseppe, to you, my dear!"

"Bien, Giuseppe, well I wondered if the Republic of San Marino could issue only stamps of endangered
species from now on?"

"Hmm," I said, controlling my excitement. "That might be difficult. What, forget about Space-Flight and
Vintage Cars and Famous Volcanos and Torments of the Inquisition? Are there enough endangered
species?"

"Millions. More are found every day. It's a race to find them before they vanish. The previous director of
the WWF had a nervous breakdown worrying about species that he doesn't know exist — they might
stop existing without anybody knowing."

"I would need persuading."