"Alan Dean Foster - Flinx 12 - Trouble Magnet" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

тАЬIf the folks who run the place are as cagey as you suggest, I donтАЩt see how we could sneak in unobserved. If itтАЩs
as crowded as you say, I donтАЩt imagine weтАЩll need to. And if itтАЩs as shady even on the sunward side, IтАЩm sure we
can convince the appropriate authorities to take a pass on any detailed arrival and entry formalities.тАЭ

As its master left the command chamber, the Teacher set about negotiating the necessary alterations to the
appropriate dimensional mathematics, with an appropriate kick in the right direction. It worked flawlessly,
efficiently, rapidly.

But insofar as it was capable of contemplating the consequences of the impulsive course change, it was not
pleased.




Habitable worlds were like tolerable people, Flinx mused as the Teacher decelerated through normal space
toward Visaria. Viewed from a distance, they all looked similar. Draw closer, and individual features made
themselves visible. The lines of a continent on a planet; the lines of character in a personтАЩs face. Canyons and
crevices, rills and revelations, some carved by wind and water, others by life and experiences. He had
encountered both weathered worlds and weathered people. It was no different with sentient nonhumans. One
simply had to study the different physical features to learn what they signified.

Move in closer still and fine detail became apparent. With worlds, individual streams. With people, streams of
consciousness only he could perceive. Mountains and forests, cities and roads and seaports. Shifty or
straightforward eyes, digits or tentacles reaching for handshakes or weapons. To isolate such features, one just
had to know how and where to look. Surviving both worlds and individuals was a matter of leavening alertness
with knowledge. He had been born with plenty of the former, and through circumstance had been force-fed an
abundance of the latter. In this he was not really all that different from his fellow sentients. In one other highly
significant way he was.

Worlds whispered to him.

Inhabited worlds, mostly, though his Talent had grown sensitive and sharp enough to allow him to perceive the
emotions of less intelligent orders of beings. It did not matter whether the worlds he visited were dominated by
his own kind, or by the insectoid thranx, or the aggressive AAnn, or even more outr├й sentients such as the Vssey.
If they possessed an inner emotional life, their feelings encroached on him. Through practice and time, he had
gained the ability to shut out some of the emotive shouting of others. But not all of it, and not always. Just as he

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could not predictably control his ability to perceive the feelings of others, so he could not always completely
banish them from his Meliorare-altered mind. That was why he often chose to avoid worlds that were crowded
with intelligent life. That was why he was deliberately choosing to immerse himself in one now.

At this distance, the murmuring of millions of minds exerted only the gentlest of pressures on his thoughts. Only
millions, because while it was developing rapidly, Visaria was still a colony world. Should he find himself
overwhelmed, there would be extensive open spaces where he could rest his mind. Aware that the immersion he
was about to willingly subject himself to bordered on the masochistic, he found that he was starting to feel a little
nervous. Perhaps this wasnтАЩt such a good idea after all. Perhaps he should direct the Teacher to halt some
distance away from Visaria, in the outer, quieter reaches of its six-world system, while he meditated further on