"Robert F. Young - O Little Town of Bethlehem II" - читать интересную книгу автора (Young Robert F)

aluminum-foil star seems to shine with a light of its own. We rig up a canopy over the crèche to give the
impression of a stable, and Rich Jefferson, the colony's electrician, installs a light under it of much softer
radiance than those illuminating the square and which bathes the figures of Mary, Joseph, the shepherds,
and the Christ child with a candlelight-like glow. I guess all of us are a bit awed by the effect. The baby
Jesus seems to look right up at us out of His crib, ready to bestow His love upon this new world.
To add zest to the occasion we tap a keg of homemade beer. Figured in McMullen time, only a year
has passed since our arrival, but a McMullen year equals almost two Earth years, so we've had more
than enough time to introduce into our lives some of the daily pleasures we used to take for granted on
Earth.
As the beer warms us, a feeling of camaraderie, tinged with self-satisfaction, envelops us. Rich
Jefferson puts the way we feel into words when, his black face mirroring the tree lights, he waves his
ceramic cup of beer back and forth and says, "We worked hard, men. We worked together, day and
night. We came to a strange world and turned it into a new home for mankind. A world so far from Earth
it ain't been touched yet with the love of Jesus. We brought some of that love with us. Tomorrow night
the rest of it will wash over us like a Wave from heaven." He holds up his cup. All the rest of us hold up
ours. "To brotherly love!" he cries, and everyone joins him in the toast.

I leave the square before the others do. I want to get up tomorrow morning with a clear head.
I am thoughtful as I make my way homeward through the narrow streets. The warmth of the beer is
still with me and so is the sense of camaraderie.
We named our little colony Bethlehem. I savor the word in my mind. I speak it aloud in the night.
"Bethlehem."
Because of the forthcoming miracle, no other name would have done.
I know that in a scientific sense the miracle won't be a true one. It will simply be the result of the
forces of nature. Nevertheless, in it, it is possible to find the hand of God.
At 10:16 tomorrow night Christ will be born.
He will be born on Earth, on the third of April, 33 A.D.
It is 2053 light years from Earth to McMullen's Planet. But interstellar ships travel through infraspace
where light years do not count, and our journey only lasted a day, ship's time. We traveled back into the
past, and although on Earth it is the year of our Lord 2086, were we able to see the planet in our skies, it
would be the Earth of 33 A.D.
Early in the twenty-first century time-probes pinpointed the moment of Christ's birth. Before our
departure the master computer at Space Base informed us exactly when the wings of light would bring
the reality of the event to us. In setting the McMullen date, we chose the traditional rather than the actual
month, but moved the day back by one, for Christmas Eve, in the minds of most Christians, has become
even holier than Christmas Day.
Although our months are much longer than Earth months, the length of our days is approximately that
of Earth days. And, incredibly, the month we have named December is the month when winter in this
temperate zone begins!
The Advance Team, which studied the planet and chose the spot where the colony is now located,
consists of men and women of diverse religions. Some of them are atheists. After they radioed their
report to Earth, they set up their own colony well to the south of the land they had staked out for us.
ADEA decided it would be sacrilegious to send any more non-Christians to a planet that was soon to
know the birth of Christ, so for the main colony, equal numbers of Neo-Catholic and Neo-Protestant
families were chosen.
We haven't given much thought to Easter. It's too far in our future and some of us may never live to
see it. Hopefully those of us who do will be ennobled to an even greater degree when the reality of the
resurrection reaches across space and touches our shores.
The next morning Rich Jefferson, Doc Rosario and I set out for the neighboring Stooptown to barter
for wild turkeys. The big ship which brought the colonists here stands in a large clearing in the woods just