"Gene Wolfe - Long Sun 1 - Nightside the long sun" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wolfe Gene)


NlGHTSIDE THE LONG SUN

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Nine, he was an undoubted god nevertheless. This, this was enlightenment!

"Patera?"

"I'm listening, Feather. What is it you want to ask?" But enlightenment was for theodidacts, and
he was no holy theodidact--no gaudily painted gold-crowned figure in the Writings. How could he
tell these children diat in the middle of their game--

"Then what's the lesson in our winning, Patera?"

"That you must endure to the end," Silk replied, his mind still upon die Outsider's teaching. One
of the hinges of the ball-court gate was broken; two boys had to lift the gate to swing it,
creaking, backward. The remaining hinge would surely break too, and soon, unless he did something.
Many theodidacts never told, or so he had been taught in the schola. Others told only on their
deathbeds; for the first time he felt he understood that

"We endured to the end," Horn reminded him, "but we lost just die same. You're bigger than I am.
Bigger than any of us."

Silk nodded and smiled. "I did not say that the only object was to win."

Horn opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, his eyes thoughtful. Silk took Goldcrest and
Villus from his shoulders at the gate and dried his torso, then reclaimed his black tunic from the
nail on which he had hung it Sun Street ran parallel to die sun, as its name indicated, and as
usual at this hour it was blazing hot Regretfully, he pulled his tunic over his head, smelling his
own sweat.

"You lost," he remarked to Villus once the stifling tunic was in place, "when Horn got the ball
away from you. But you won when everyone on our team did. What have you learned from that?"



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When little Villus said nothing, Feadier answered, "That winning and losing aren't everything."

The loose black robe followed the tunic, seeming to close about him. "Good enough," he told
Feather.

As five boys shut the court gate behind them, the faint and much-diffused shadow of a Flier raced
down Sun Street. The boys glared up at him, and a few of the smallest reached for stones, though
the Flier was diree or four times higher than the loftiest tower in Viron.

Silk halted, raising his head to stare upward with a long-felt envy he struggled to suppress. Had