"Gene Wolfe - Petting Zoo" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wolfe Gene)

Petting Zoo
by Gene Wolfe
Petting Zoo
GENE WOLFE

Gene Wolfe's body of work over the years is a challenge and a delight to serious readers of science
fiction. This year, as in the past, there were several fine Wolfe stories to choose from for this volume, but
this one, published in a paperback original anthology of lightweight pieces on the theme, Return o f the
Dinosaurs, seemed to me just the thing to lead off a Year's Best volume, in a year when dinosaurs on film
and TV are in vogue. There has been a fair amount of disagreement in recent years as to what makes a
good SF story and in what way such characteristics as plot and action, character or idea ought or ought
not to be central to the enterprise of science fiction storytelling. In my opinion, each good story implicitly
makes its own statement and influences the argument it its own favor. And so the literature evolves. This
is a cracking good story with subtle, and some quite clear, implications. But never mind that for now;
read this slick, fast piece for fun and surprises and then stop and think afterward: what might it mean if the
dinosaurs came back as Barney?

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Roderick looked up at the sky. It was indeed blue, but almost cloudless. The air was hot arid smelled
of dust.

"Here, children . . ." The teaching cyborg was pointedly not addressing him. "-Tyranosaurus Rex. Rex
was created by an inadequately socialized boy who employed six Build-a-Critter kits . . ."

Sixteen.

"-which he duped on his father's Copystuff. With that quantity of GroQik . . ."

It had taken a day over two weeks, two truckloads of pigs that he had charged to Mother's account,
and various other things that had become vague. For the last week, he had let Rex go out at night to see
what he could find, and people would-people were bound to-notice the missing cattle soon. Had
probably noticed them already.

Rex had looked out through the barn window while he was mooring his airbike and said, "I'm tired of
hiding all day."

And he himself had said . . .

"Let's go for a ride." One of the little girls had raised her hand.

From the other side of the token barrier that confined him, Rex himself spoke for the first time, saying,
"You will, kid. She's not quite through yet." His voice was a sort of growling tenor now, clearly forced
upward as high as he could make it so as to seem less threatening. Roderick pushed on his suit's A-C
and shivered a little.

It had been cool, that day. Cool, with a little breeze he had fought the whole way over, keeping his
airbike below the treetops and following groundtrucks when he could, pulled along by their wake.