Free Hard to Be a God by Arkady Strugatsky Page A

“… and God, our creator, said ‘I shall curse you,’ and curse them he did …” “… and if the horn sounds twice, scatter into pairs in chain formation, lowering your pikes at the same time …” “When the tortured faints, do not get carried away—the torture must cease …”
    This is school, thought Rumata. The source of all wisdom. The pillar of the culture.
    He pushed open the low, vaulted door without knocking and entered the office, which was dark and ice-cold, like a cellar. A tall man rushed out to greet him from behind a giant desk piled high with papers and canes forpunishment—he was bald, with sunken eyes, dressed in a tight-fitting, narrow gray uniform with the insignia of the Ministry of the Defense of the Crown. This was the procurator of the Patriotic School, the highly learned Father Kin—a sadist and murderer who had become a monk, the author of
A Treatise on Denunciation,
which had attracted the attention of Don Reba.
    Answering the flowery greeting with a curt nod, Rumata sat down in a chair and crossed his legs. Father Kin remained standing, bent in an attitude of deferential attention. “Well, how’s it going?” Rumata asked affably. “Slaughtering some literates, educating others?”
    Father Kin showed his teeth in a grin. “A literate is not the enemy of the king,” he said. “The enemy of the king is the literate dreamer, the literate skeptic, the literate nonbeliever! Whereas here we—”
    â€œAll right, all right,” said Rumata. “I believe you. What have you been scribbling? I read your treatise—a useful book, but a stupid one. How did that happen? Shame on you. Some procurator!”
    â€œI do not endeavor to impress with my mind,” Father Kin answered with dignity. “All I have sought is to be of service to the state. We do not need smart people. We need loyal people. And we—”
    â€œAll right, all right,” Rumata said again. “I believe you. So are you writing anything new or not?”
    â€œI’m planning to submit an essay to the ministry about a new state, modeled on the Region of the Holy Order.”
    â€œWhat’s this?” Rumata said in surprise. “You want us all to become monks?”
    Father Kin clasped his hands and leaned forward. “Allow me to explain, noble don,” he said fervently, licking his lips.“It’s not about that at all! It’s about the basic tenets of the new state. The tenets are simple, and there are only three of them: blind faith in the infallibility of the laws, unquestioning obedience to these laws, and also everyone vigilantly watching everyone else.”
    â€œHmm,” said Rumata. “But why?”
    â€œWhat do you mean, why?”
    â€œYou really are stupid,” Rumata said. “All right, I believe you. Where was I? Oh yes! Tomorrow you will get two new instructors. Their names are Father Tarra, a very venerable old man who works in, what’s it called … cosmography, and Brother Nanin, also a trustworthy man, who is knowledgeable about history. These are my people, so treat them with respect. Here’s money for the pledge.” He threw a clinking pouch onto the desk. “Your share is five gold pieces. Understood?”
    â€œYes, noble don,” Father Kin said.
    Rumata yawned and looked around. “Well, I’m glad you understood,” he said. “For some reason, my father was very fond of these people and left me instructions to set them up in life. You’re a learned man—can you explain to me why a noble don would have such affection for a literate?”
    â€œMaybe some special services?” proposed Father Kin.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” Rumata asked suspiciously. “On the other hand, why not? Yes … a pretty daughter or sister … You have no wine here, of course?”
    Father Kin spread his hands