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1、【国外英文文学】The AmbassadorTitle: The AmbassadorAuthor: Samuel Kimball MerwinIllustrator: Kelly FreasRelease Date: May 29, 2010 EBook #32587Language: EnglishCharacter set encoding: ASCII* START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AMBASSADOR *Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the OnlineDistributed P
2、roofreading Team at THE AMBASSADOR By Sam Merwin, Jr. Illustrated by Kelly FreasTranscriber Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of ScienceFiction March 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence thatthe U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.Sidenote: _All Earth needed wa
3、s a good stiff dose of common sense, butits rulers preferred to depend on the highly fallible computers instead.As a consequence, interplanetary diplomatic relations were somewhatstrained-until a nimble-witted young man from Mars came up with theanswer to the sixty-four dollar question._Zalen Lindsa
4、y stood on the rostrum in the huge new United Worldsauditorium on the shore of Lake Pontchartrain and looked out at an oceanof eye-glasses. Individually they ranged in hue from the rose-tintedspectacles of the Americans to the dark brown of the Soviet bloc. Theirshapes and adornments were legion: ro
5、und, harlequin, diamond, rhomboid,octagonal, square, oval; rimless, gem-studded, horn-rimmed,floral-rimmed, rimmed in the cases of some of the lady representativeswith immense artificial eyelashes.The total effect, to Lindsay, was of looking at an immense page ofprinted matter composed entirely of p
6、unctuation marks. Unspectacled, hefelt like a man from Mars. He _was_ a man from Mars-first MartianAmbassador Plenipotentiary to the Second United Worlds Congress.He wished he could see some of the eyes behind the protective goggles,for he knew he was making them blink.He glanced down at the telepro
7、mpter in front of him-purely to addeffect to a pause, for he had memorized his speech and was delivering itwithout notes. On it was printed: HEY, BOSS-DONT FORGET YOU GOT ADINNER DATE WITH THE SEC-GEN TONIGHT.IllustrationLindsay suppressed a smile and said, In conclusion, I am qualified bythe govern
8、ors of Mars to promise that if we receive another shipment ofBritish hunting boots we shall destroy them immediately uponunloading-and refuse categorically to ship further beryllium to Earth.On Mars we raise animals for food, not for sport-we consider humanbeings as the only fit athletic competition
9、 for other humans-and we seesmall purpose in expending our resources mining beryllium or othermetals for payment that is worse than worthless. In short, we will notbe a dumping ground for Earths surplus goods. I thank you.The faint echo of his words came back to him as he stepped down from therostru
10、m and walked slowly to his solitary seat in the otherwise emptysection allotted to representatives of alien planets. Otherwise therewas no sound in the huge assemblage.He felt a tremendous lift of tension, the joyousness of a man who hassatisfied a lifelong yearning to toss a brick through a plate-g
11、lasswindow and knows he will be arrested for it and doesnt care.There was going to be hell to pay-and Lindsay was honestly lookingforward to it. While Secretary General Carlo Bergozza, his dark-greenspectacles resembling parenthesis marks on either side of his thin eaglebeak, went through the motion
12、s of adjourning the Congress forforty-eight hours, Lindsay considered his mission and its purpose.Earth-a planet whose age-old feuds had been largely vitiated by theincreasing rule of computer-judgment-and Mars, the one settled alienplanet on which no computer had ever been built, were driftingdange
13、rously apart.It was, Lindsay thought with a trace of grimness, the same ancient storyof the mother country and her overseas colonies, the same basic andseemingly inevitable trend, social and economic, that had led to therevolt of North America against England, three hundred years earlier.On a far va
14、ster and costlier scale, of course.Lindsay had been sent to Earth, as his planets first representative atthe new United Worlds Congress, to see that this trend was halted beforeit led to irrevocable division. And not by allowing Mars to become amere feeder and dumping ground for the parent planet.We
15、ll, he had tossed a monkey wrench into the machinery of interplanetarysweetness and light, he thought. Making his way slowly out with the restof the Congress, he felt like the proverbial bull in the china shop. Theothers, eyeing him inscrutably through their eye-glasses and over theirharness humps,
16、drew aside to let him walk through.But all around him, in countless national tongues, he heard thewhispers, the mutterings-sending a gladiator . looks like a vidarstar . too young for such grave responsibility . nounderstanding of the basic sensitivities.Obviously, he had _not_ won a crushing vote o
17、f confidence. * * * * *To hell with them, all of them, he thought as someone tapped him on ashoulder. He turned to find du Fresne, the North American Minister ofComputation, peering up at him through spectacles that resembled twinscoops of strawberry ice-cream mounted in heavy white-metal rims.Id li
18、ke a word with you, he said, speaking English rather thanEsperanto. Lindsay nodded politely, thinking that du Fresne lookedrather like a Daumier judge with his fashionable humped back and longofficial robe of office.Over a table in the twilight bar du Fresne leaned toward him, nearlyupsetting his co
19、lafizz with a sleeve of his robe.M-mind you, he said, this is strictly unofficial, Lindsay, but I haveyour interests at heart. Youre following trend X.Got me all nicely plotted out on your machine? said Lindsay.Du Fresnes sallow face went white at this pleasantry. As Minister ofComputation his entir
20、e being was wrapped up in the immensely intricatecalculators that forecast all decisions for the huge North Americanrepublic. Obviously battling anger, he said, Dont laugh at Elsac,Lindsay. It has never been wrong-it cant be wrong.Im not laughing, said Lindsay quietly. But no one has ever fed me toa
21、 computer. So how can you know.?We have fed it every possible combination of circumstances based uponall the facts of Terro-Martian interhistory, the Minister ofComputation stated firmly. His nose wrinkled and seemed to turn visiblypink at the nostril-edges. He said, Damn! Im allergic tocomputer-rid
22、icule. He reached for an evapochief, blew his nose.Sorry, said Lindsay, feeling the mild amazement that seemed toaccompany all his dealings with Earthfolk. I wasnt-I doe you werend, du Fresne said thickly. Bud de vurry zuggedgeshunof ridicule dudz id. He removed his strawberry spectacles, produced a
23、neye-cup, removed and dried the contact lenses beneath. After he hadreplaced them his condition seemed improved.Lindsay offered him a cigarette, which was refused, and selected one forhimself. He said, What happens if I pursue trend X?Youll be assassinated, du Fresne told him nervously. And the resu
24、ltsof such assassination will be disastrous for both planets. Earth willhave to go to war.Then why not ship us goods we can use? Lindsay asked quietly.Du Fresne looked at him as despairingly as his glasses would permit. Hesaid, You just dont understand. Why didnt your people send someonebetter attun
25、ed to our problems?Perhaps because they felt Mars would be better represented by someoneattuned to its own problems, Lindsay told him. Dont tell me yourprecious computers recommend murder and war.They dont recommend anything, said du Fresne. They merely advisewhat will happen under given sets of con
26、ditions.Perhaps if you used sensible judgment instead of machines to make yourdecisions you could prevent my assassination, said Lindsay, finishinghis scotch on the rocks. Who knows? he added. You might even be ableto prevent an interplanetary war!When he left, du Fresnes nose was again growing red
27、and the Minister ofComputation was fumbling for another evapochief. * * * * *Riding the escaramp to his office on the one-twentieth floor of the UWbuilding, Lindsay pondered the strange people of the mother planet amongwhom his assignment was causing him to live. One inch over six feet, hewas not ou
28、tstandingly tall-but he felt tall among them, with theirslump harnesses and disfiguring spectacles and the women so hiddenbeneath their shapeless coveralls and harmopan makeup.He was not unprepared for the appearance of Earthfolk, of course, but hehad not yet adjusted to seeing them constantly aroun
29、d him in such largenumbers. To him their deliberate distortion was as shocking as, hesupposed wryly, his own unaltered naturalness was to them.There was still something illogical about the cult of everyday uglinessthat had overtaken the mother planet in the last two generations, underthe guise of so
30、cial harmony. It dated back, of course, to the great Dr.Ludmilla Hartwig, psychiatric synthesizer of the final decades of thetwentieth century.It was she who had correctly interpreted the growing distrust of thehandsome and the beautiful among the great bulk of the less favored, theintense feelings
31、of inferiority such comely persons aroused. It was fromher computer-psychiatry that the answer employed had come: sinceeveryone cannot be beautiful, let all be ugly.This slogan had sparked the mass use of unneeded spectacles, thedistortion harnesses, the harmopan makeup. Now, outside of emergencies,
32、it was as socially unacceptable for a man or woman to reveal a faceuncovered in public as it had been, centuries earlier, for a Moslemodalisque to appear unveiled in the bazaar.There were exceptions, of course-aside from those who were naturallyugly to begin with. Vidar-screen actors and actresses w
33、ere permitted toreveal beauty when their parts demanded it-which was usually only invillains roles. And among men, professional athletes were expected toshow their faces and bodies _au naturel_ as a mark of their profession.Among women the professional courtesans-the models, not thetwo-credit whores
34、-displayed their charms on all occasions. Beauty wasbad business for lower-caste prostitutes-it made such clients theycould promote feel too inferior.These specialists, the models and gladiators, were something of a raceapart, computer-picked in infancy and raised for their professions likeJapanese
35、_sumo_ wrestlers. They were scarcely expected to enter the moresensitive realms of the arts, business affairs or government.It was, Lindsay decided, a hell of a state of affairs. * * * * *Nina Beckwith, Lindsays Earth-assigned personal secretary, was leaningfar back in her tilt-chair with her feet o
36、n the desk. Her eyes weresquinted behind chartreuse-tinted flat-oval lenses to avoid fumes from acigarette stuck in a corner of her wide mouth. She had shut off theair-conditioner, opened the picture window and pulled the pants of hercoverall far up above her knees to let the warm New Orleans Septem
37、berair wash over her skin.Lindsay looked at her legs with surprise-it had not occurred to himthat Nina owned such a long and shapely pair. He whistled softly throughhis teeth.Nina removed her smoke, sighed and made a move to stand up and let hercoverall fall back over the exposed limbs. Lindsay said
38、, Not on myaccount-_please_! Those are the first good looking legs Ive seen sinceleaving Mars.Watch yourself, boss, said Nina and indulged in a slow half-smile.Then, putting her feet back on the floor, You certainly lost a lot offriends and disinfluenced a lot of people down there today. If youdprep
39、ared your speech on the machine Id have fixed it up for you.Which is exactly why I prepared it in my hot little head, Lindsay toldher. I wanted to knock some sense into them.Nina got out of her chair and snuffed out her cigarette in the disposaltray, then sat on the edge of the desk and poked at the
40、 untidydark-blonde hair she wore in a knot on top of her head. She said, Nightsoil! Youll never knock any sense into that mob.Lindsay, who had been thinking wistfully that if Nina would only dosomething about that hair, the thickness of her middle, and her biliouscomplexion, she might be fairly good
41、 looking, blinked. He said, Why inhell do you work for them then?She shrugged disinterested shoulders, told him, Its a job. Sheyawned, unabashed, added irrelevantly, You know, boss, the trouble withyou is you look like a gladiator. They wont take you seriously unlessyou wear specs and a harness.Over
42、 my dead body, he told her. Whats wrong with athletes anyway? Iplay damned good tennis when I get time to practice.Athletes are lousy lovers, she said. Your correspondence is on yourdesk. She nodded toward it. Get it signed, will you? Ive got a dinnerdate.Lindsay restrained an impulse to ask her wit
43、h what and signed theletters dutifully.Nina was a spy, of course, or she wouldnt have the job. In view of hisown assignment and the delicacy of Terro-Martian relations at themoment, she must be a good one.He handed her the letters, noted the slight sway of her thick body asshe walked toward the disp
44、atch-chute. A pity, he thought, that the restof her failed to match the long perfect legs she had so unexpectedly puton display.Oh, Miss Beckwith he called after her. You dont have to list myappointments on the teleprompter when Im making a speech after this.She stopped, cast him an oblique glance o
45、ver one shoulder and saidwithout much interest, I didnt know whether youd get back here ornot-and it wouldnt do to forget the Secretary General.All right, he said in resignation. When she had gone he wondered if heshould have told her what du Fresne had said about his possibleassassination, decided
46、it was just as well he had kept mum. He went upon the roof for a copter. * * * * *The dinner was informal. Lindsay and Fernando Anderson, the flamboyantjunior senator from New Mexico, were the only guests. They were fourat the charming _ante bellum_ mahogany table of the SecretaryGenerals Natchez mansion. Carlo Bergozza, the Secretary Generalhimself-courteous, with natural as well as harness-stooped shoulders, atrifle vague-and his daughter and official hoste