"Alan Dean Foster - Flinx - Reunion" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

Flinx flaunted no such artificial enhancements, unless one counted the
Alaspinian minidrag coiled around his neck and left shoulder. Such
contemporary cultural accoutrements were as alien to him as the primeval grains
of sand beneath his feet. Culturally as well as historically, he was an utter and
complete stranger here. Nor was he comfortable among the throngs of people.
With its still unsettled steppes and unexplored reaches. Moth, where he had
grown up, was far more familiar to him. He was more at home in the jungles of
Alaspin, or among the blind Sumacrea of Longtunnel, or even in the aggressive
world-girdling rain forest of Midworld. Anyplace but here. Anywhere but Earth.

Yet it was to Earth he had finally come for a second time, in search of himself.
All roads led to Terra, it was said, and it was as true for him as for anyone else.

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Foster, Alan Dean - Flinx 8 - Reunion (v1.0) (html)


Beyond Earth, the United Church had placed a moral imperative lock, an
elaborate Edict, on all information about the Meliorares, the society of renegade
eugenicists responsible for whatever bastard mutation he had become. Travels
and adventures elsewhere had left him with hints as to their doings, with
fragmentary bits and pieces of knowledge that tantalized without satisfying. If he
was ever going to unravel the ultimate secrets of his heritage, it was here.

Even so, he had been reluctant to come. Not because he was fearful of what he
might find: He had long since matured beyond such fears. But because it was
dangerous. Not only did he want to learn all the details of his origins: so did
others. Because of contacts he had been compelled to make, the United Church
was now aware of him as an individual instead of merely as an overlooked
statistic in the scientific record. As high-ranking an official as thranx Counselor
Second Druvenmaquez had taken a personal interest in the red-haired, bright-
eyed young man Flinx had become. The novice beachgoer smiled to himself. He
had left the irascible, elderly thranx on Midworld, slipping away quietly when
the science counselor had been occupied elsewhere. When he eventually
discovered that the singular young human had taken surreptitious flight, the
venerable thranx would be irked. He would have to be satisfied with what little
he had already learned, because neither his people nor anyone else would be able
to track Flinx's ship, the Teacher, through space-plus.

Ever cautious, Flinx had decided for the moment to hew to the hoary principle
that the best place to hide was in plain sight. What better place to do that than on
one of the Commonwealth's twin world centers of government and religion,
where he had come looking for information years ago? It was where he needed
to be anyway, if he was ever going to find out the truth about himself. In
addition to his burgeoning curiosity, there had come upon him in the past year a

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