"Anthony,.Piers.-.Mute (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anthony Susan)

The lofty forehead wrinkled. "If you are not he, why do you address me now?"

"Knot, with a sounded K, one syllable," Knot said patiently. He had been through this, too, many times before, and rather enjoyed it. "My name."

The mutant smiled. "Knot," he repeated, pronouncing the K. "Apology." He was now fairly well relaxed.

"Accepted. It is a common misapprehension. Some claim my name has suffered more mutation than my body. May I shake your hand?"

The mutant put forth his large right hand. Knot met it with his equally large hand. The mutant's grip was gentle, though he was obviously quite strong.

"You are larger than you sound," Flas said. "And mutant," he added, feeling the sixth finger.

"We are all mutant here," Knot assured him. That was why he had shaken hands; otherwise the blind mutant could have been in doubt about Knot's status, despite his hint about it. "We don't like to have normals interfering. We are all like you: min-mutes and mod-mutes, of human-norm intellect or above, able to function independently. This enclave is self-supporting; we export as much as we import. We have pride."

"Pride," Flas echoed wistfully. "I have known little of that. Even the lobos have higher social status than my type, on Jeen."

Which was evidently the major reason Flas had come here. "Lobos are surgically normal people, of no special significance," Knot said warmly. "Mutants are the catalyst of modern human society." This message, too, he had repeated many tunes, but it always buoyed him: the justification of his kind. "Without us, there would be no space travel, no colonization of inclement planets or habitats. Without us, in fact, the human empire would collapse and the Coordination Computer would be junk,"

"You speak as if you believe."

"I do believe 1 And you will believe too, or you will not fit in welt here. We have the pride of the flesh. Normals are largely restricted to the surfaces of Earth-type planets; the future of the species lies with the mutants."

"The psi-mutes, maybe," Flas said. "Not with our kind."

"The phys-mutes too! Today Enclave MM58 is self-
supporting; ultimately we may become a creditor entity, with our own representative in the Galactic Concord. Because of the loyalty and application of specially skilled mutants like you."

"Pep talk," Flas said. "I have heard it before."

"You will perceive new meaning in it. This is not a junkyard enclave; this is a viable economic society. What are your skills?"

Despite his superficial reserve, Flas smiled, responding to Knot's enthusiasm. "I am good with my hands. I have made hundreds of baskets in my day,"

"A basket easel" Knot snorted. "Where is the future in baskets?"

The mutant shrugged. "When I asked them that, they sent me here."

"You have a questioning mind and an independent spirit. They don't like that in some places. We do like it here." Knot considered. "It is my job to find the ideal situation for you considering your physical, mental and social propensities. You will not be assigned anywhere against your will; if you don't like what I suggest, I'll look for something else. Sometimes I get too innovative and miss the mark embarrassingly. Sometimes something sounds good, but doesn't work out in practice. If there were, not such problems, there would be no point in my job, would there?"

"You're working up to something awkward," Flas said.

"Astute observation. We have a local animal we call the snird, a kind of cross between a snake and a bird in the Earth-book listing. It lays eggs in the dark, and these eggs contain a chemical of value in stellar photography. The elevated radiation of space interferes with conventional processes, as we mutants well know, but this chemical is resistant. The problem is that in the raw state it is hypersensitive to light. Even an instant's exposure ruins it. So we must collect the eggs in complete darkness. Unfortunately the snirds are protective of their eggs, and their bite is poisonous."

"Take the eggs with pincers, or wearing gauntlets," Flas suggested, interested.

"The eggs are extremely delicate, and of odd shapes ana sizes. Careless or mechanical handling breaks them. They
must be kept warm and intact until brought to the laboratory. In addition, they must be harvested at the right moment; only a 'ripe' egg, distinguished by a slightly hardened surface, possesses the necessary quality. A green one is useless. Only an expert human touch suffices to distinguish between themЧbut for some reason most of our sighted people are reluctant."

The mutant laughed. "I can well believe!" "We have elevated the incentive bonus, to no avail. A good snird-egg harvester can arrange his own hours of work, has a 20 percent extra food ration, and a generous personal-expense allowance. It Is possible to develop a comfortable savings account that permits early retirement."