"Alan Dean Foster - Flinx 11 - Running from the Deity" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

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 Running

Return, Flinx reflected. Go back, risk being discovered by Commonwealth authorities, or members of
the Order of Null, or who knew what else, while the Teacher, his home and refuge, was laid up in an
orbital repair facility somewhere, leaving him no means of flight from possible trouble. Not to mention,
once repairs were completed, having to begin this probably vainglorious quest all over again.

тАЬI deduce by your silence that this proposed course of action leaves you less than enthused.тАЭ

Irritated, Flinx spoke without looking up from the green-and-blue ground cover that gave the floor of the
lounge the look of a well-manicured meadow. тАЬWhat did I just say about understatement?тАЭ

тАЬUsefully,тАЭ the ship-mind went on, тАЬthere is an alternative possibility.тАЭ

тАЬAlternative?тАЭ Now Flinx did look up, focusing his gaze on one of the unobtrusive visual pickups
scattered around the lounge. тАЬHow can there be an alternative?тАЭ

Sounding pleased with itselfтАФalthough it was nothing more than a subset of its conditional programming
тАФthe ship-mind continued.

тАЬThe structural repairs and reinforcements I need to effect are within the capability of my integrated
maintenance faculties. I am convinced that I can carry out the requisite maintenance without outside
assistance. Provided, of course, that a location is found that will support my weight while
simultaneously making available certain essential raw materials. These consist primarily of carbon and
titanium, two quite common elements, that need to be worked under terrestrial-type atmosphere and
gravity. It should be possible to locate such a world here within the Blight. This would obviate the need
for us to return to the Commonwealth, a course of action I infer from your reaction to my previous
suggestion that you would clearly prefer to avoid.тАЭ

тАЬYou infer correctly.тАЭ Flinx was much relieved. With luck, they would not have to subject themselves to
Commonwealth scrutiny, nor retrace the parsecs they had already covered. He did not doubt that the
Teacher could successfully carry out the necessary repair work. If it was in the least bit uncertain, it
would never have put forth the proposal.

For just a moment, he considered instructing the ship to press on ahead and ignore the required repairs.
What was the worst that could happen? That the ship would fragment and he would die? In space-plus,
the convergent disintegration would occur in less than the blink of an eye. It would all be over and done
with: the burden of responsibility, the endless worrying, his confused concerns for Clarity Held, the
recurrent head-splitting headachesтАФall forever finished, and him with them.

Then he remembered what the ever-gruff but affectionate Mother Mastiff had always told him, even
when he was a pre-adolescent, about dying.

тАЬJust remember one thing about death, boy,тАЭ sheтАЩd growl softly, in between spitting something better

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 Running