Аннотация: Это "Круговая порука", но состоящая из сочетаний английских слов :) Огромное спасибо Заостровных Евгению за перевод моего рассказа на язык Шекспира.
Frank pledge
General Jack Carson smoked his fifth cigarette in succession. In any other situation, at any other time hardly at gun point could anyone force him, a middleweight boxing ex-champion of Illinois, to clog up his lungs with tobacco smoke. As the case stands though, there is no need to take care of his health anymore. His hands were shaking in a slight tremor. Can it really be the end? Remnants of troops were fragmented but were still offering resistance; one by one throwing themselves into the brisk. What could the Earth's troops confront to the army of invasion? Tanks melted like cheese in a microwave under enemy's radiators? The engines of planes boycotted their pilots in flight, suddenly stopping? Missiles were reduced to mere spears and javelins, their warheads refusing to explode. The powerful American fleets sank within a matter of seconds, as if someone erased the fundamental laws of physics that once served mankind faithfully over centuries. Water soaked through the ship's skin-plating in a flash, and embraced all the sinking warships. Intercommunication with submarines was gone. The general was fully confident that the submarines lay next to the warships on the ocean floor under the mass of water. All that's left is to put trust in God and to be left to the mercy of invaders. It is funny, but all that science-fiction writers and Hollywood miracle-workers had terrified us with has finally happened. The alien invasion of earth has begun. Though in contrast to the traditional happy ending, the armed forces of the earth had gone on the rocks.
In the dusk of command bunker, was hovering tobacco smoke. Everyone smoked. The ventilation wasn't able to cope with the mixture of smells - expensive cigars and cheap cigarettes. In the conference hall sat the president of the United States, the ministers and the big brass; all those people without whom it was impossible to make a crucial decision, and not for only their nations.
'But shouldn't aggressors set up their claim or make their demands?' - said the prime minister, springing from his seat, and tossing his cigarette-butt into a trashcan.
'Why should they claim something?' said the Secretary of the Treasury, inhaling the smoke of his cigar. 'They'll simply clean up our planet and empty our natural resources.'
'What gave you the idea, that they need our natural resources?' - said the Minister of Culture with a snarl. The two men could hardly tolerate each other. Now in the tight space of the underground shelter their hostility was growing more volatile with every second, changing from slight irritation to direct confrontation.
'What do you think, they've come here for Gauguin's paintings or the Budapest symphony orchestra?' said the treasurer, maliciously scolding, his long-time opponent of all hot discussions.
Mrs. Jackson, the press secretary, decides to relieve the tension coming between two debaters, who were standing nervously with tight fists and aggressive grins. 'Gentlemen, it's worthless to direct your negative emotions outward,' said Jackson. 'That won't mend matters. We're not enemies to each other! Maybe, we are the only survivors on this planet. All we need now is to think of how to save the remnants of mankind! In the smoke-filled room of the underground shelter, all emotions were suddenly absorbed by nicotine, leaving for all listeners the phrase: 'Gentlemen, we need some food, our resources are not sufficient'.
"When a lady falls off the trailer, the jeep drives faster," said admiral Andersen quoting an old Russian saying that was in his memory since the time he attended Russian language courses in West Point many years ago. Andersen moved Mrs. Jackson aside. Andersen hated the Secretary of the Treasury too since he assisted in reducing the Navy's armed forces and armaments in every possible way. And now, the dashing admiral was about to smash his fist down on the minister's chubby face.
The conflict was quickly digressing to the stage of manhandling. The council was mentally dividing into several enemy camps, and looking for main targets of their opponents. For a minute it looked like they were headed toward a nasty brawl, but amidst all the smoke of the hall appeared a strange figure that obviously did not belong to an earthling. This was so sudden that the Minister of Culture lost consciousness, his head bouncing on the cold concrete bunker floor. General Carson squared up, and Andersen reached for his dagger.
The unwelcome guest did not react to the men. The extra-terrestrial was not planning to attack, bite or tear the people apart, or leave his cocoons in this room to all appearance; at least, at this moment... He showed no aggression, although he was evidently in some kind of alien military uniform. His dark cherry tight-fitting suit was embellished with three rows of light golden fasteners, from shoulders to elbows streamed down glossy epaulettes. The skin of the space alien was light green. Two round enormous eyes sat where the earthlings expected ears, and gazed at the environment with bureaucratic indifference. The alien breathed in the air with his two huge nostrils on the top of his bald head, and his body shook violently from head to foot.
'It's a hologram,' - simultaneously sighed with relief several voices. Meanwhile the alien began to drone with gravelly voice:
'In accordance with findings of the Intergalactic court: Article 3 Paragraph 5 Item 4, for hooliganism and disorderly conduct earthlings are sentenced to 15 galactic days of socially useful work. Sentence has been passed in your absence, as the prosecutorial agent was absent in the hall of justice. In charge of execution of the sentence is Bailiff Kuuurkhhhaaa.'
'What the hell is the Intergalactic court?' yelled the president springing from his seat. 'What laws? We know nothing about them! It is a mistake indeed!'
'Ignorance of the law is no excuse,' stated the bailiff coldly. 'You won't be relieved from responsibility. Notice of conviction has been sent to you in advance by a special signal.'
'But we didn't receive your signals!' exclaimed the president
'Everyone talks like that,' said the bailiff apathetically repelling his opponent.
'Oh, it must be those signals that we've been trying to decipher for the last 15 years in the Minnesota laboratory.' - The secretary of state whispered in the president's ear.
'But what we are prosecuted for?'
'For an unauthorized attempt to occupy private property,' - replied the alien.
'Where? When?'
'The national flag of one terrestrial country was stuck into the territory of private property, which is also known to you as the moon. Unauthorized flag raising is equal to a squatter settlement and land-grabbing.'
'But Moon belongs to us!' said the president, banging his fist on the table threateningly. 'It's our satellite! The moon revolves around the earth!'
'The moon was artificially made in the fifteenth year of the Ghiirian calendar by the Ghirighiri Corporation. The moon is the private property of their self-declared emperor. Therewith you are charged with the parking of two vehicles in places where parking is prohibited on the territory of the same moon.
'Moon rovers? Moon rovers were left there by those goddamn Russians.' said the president. His hands were hurt by banging his fist on the table, so he took off his patent-leather shoe and thrashed it on the table aggressively. 'We can't be charged for what they did!'
Spit flew out of the president's mouth. Flying through the hologram it sprinkled the military jacket of General Carson.
'We can assure you that all people evolved from one monogamous couple, so all population of the planet Earth are kinsmen,' announced the alien 'One big family!'
The Minister of Culture turned his eye laterally on the Secretary of the Treasury. He wouldn't like to have such a relative even if he was the most distant one. Finally he smiled comforting himself with thought, "every family has its black sheep."
'Why did you disable all our armed forces?' said the president, renting the air with his screams. 'Why did you kill so many soldiers?' 'Don't worry, not one man has suffered during this operation. We have only destroyed your weapons of mass destruction. You will no longer need armies for the fixed time. You'll have no time to be at war, as you'll be busy with socially useful work. Cooperative labor unites people, so I think, during the length of your sentence, you can just forget about wars on the planet Earth.
'But how people will learn to get on after 15 days?'
'One Intergalactic day equals to one hundred days on your planet. Don't be afraid though, you'll have so much time to find a common language with each other. The sentence comes into effect from this moment forward.'
The figure of the extra-terrestrial disappeared as unexpectedly as it appeared before.
'Here's your unidirectional world,' said the president with an exhale.
Integration of the people against their will has begun.