"Peter David - Sir Apropos 01 - Sir Apropos Of Nothing" - читать интересную книгу автора (David Peter)

It's deformed!" he snarled.

"He's a he, not an it," Astel said, but she didn't dispute his observation.

"Look at him!" said the angry Stroker, standing over me. "His right leg! It's withered and twisted! He'll
never walk properly! And he's underweight! He's a runt, all shriveled and no meat on him! The first good
cold snap will kill him!"

"He'll fill out...he'll be fine," said Astel.

"My baby..." It was Madelyne, speaking in a coherent and relatively calm manner. Her arms were
weak but still half-raised, her fingers fluttering. "Let me hold him...."

Astel started to hand me over to Madelyne...and then Stroker intercepted her and snatched me out of
her arms.

"I'm exposing him," Stroker announced.

"No! You can't!" Astel said, horrified. She started to move toward Stroker to try and snatch me
back, but he drew back a meaty hand and Astel, who wasn't always the most stalwart of things,
retreated before the anticipated blow could land.

"I'm doing it a favor," Stroker informed her. "Better a quick death before Madelyne becomes too
attached to something that won't survive anyway."

Madelyne was still confused, still not fully understanding what was happening around her, but she was
able to grasp enough of it to realize what Stroker's intentions were. He was going to lay me out on a rock
somewhere, or deposit me in the forest, leaving me to die from the elements or--just as likely--to be
killed and devoured by the first passing predator looking for a light snack.

At that point, I started to mewl as infants generally do shortly upon birth, waxing nostalgic for the
safety and warmth they have just left behind. This pitiful wailing was enough to spur Madelyne and, weak
as she was, she still managed to lunge forward and grab at Stroker's leg. "No! He's mine! Mine! Give
him to me! I'm his mother! Give him to me!"

"Stop your yowling, shrew!" he snapped, and he kicked at her with his free leg. He caught her
squarely in her still weak stomach, and she lost her grip on him and rolled up in pain. But she didn't stop
shouting, didn't stop demanding that he give me back to her at that very instant.

"I'm doing what's best for all concerned!" Stroker said, and he slung me over his shoulder like a sack
of wheat.

My little mouth was right at the base of his throat.

And I sunk my teeth into him.

Teeth?I hear you say. Yes, that is correct: teeth. A right leg worth a damn, I did not have. Body
weight, there was none. But God--in his infinite perverse wisdom--had chosen to endow me with a full
set of teeth the moment I sprang from the womb. And they were, so I'm told, sharp little things, and
powerful jaw muscles accompanied them.