"Alan Dean Foster - Flinx 2 - Tar Aiym Krang" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

transition rather well. As won id-be planet-baggers rapidly found out. But on a planet where the
bulk of" the native population was composed of nomadic tribes following equally nomadic fur-
bearing animals who exhibited unwonted bellicosity towards the losing of said fill's, a
representative government would have proved awkward in the extreme. And naturally the Church would
not interfere. The Counsellors did not even think of them-selves as constituting a government,
therefore they could not think of imposing one on others. Democracy on Moth would have to wait
until the nomads would let themselves be counted, indexed, labelled, and cross-filed, and that
seemed a long, long way off. It was well known that the Bureau of the King's Census annually
published figures more complementary than accurate.
Wood products, furs, and tourism were the planet's principal industries. Those and trade.
Fur-bearing creatures of every conceivable type (and a few inconceivable ones) abounded in the
planet's endless forests. Even the insects wore fur, to shed the omnipresent water. Most known
varieties of hard and soft woods thrived in the Barklands, including & number of unique and
unclassifiable types, such an a certain deciduous fungus. When one referred to 'grain' on Moth. it
had nothing to do with flour. The giant lakes harboured fish that had to be caught from modified
barges equipped with cyborg-backed fishing lines. It was widely quoted that of all the planets in
the galaxy, only on Moth did an honest-to-goodness pisces have an even chance of going home with
the fisherman, instead of vice-versa. And hunters were only beginning to tap I hat aspect of the
planet's potentialities ... mostly because those who went into the great Forests unprepared kept
an unquieting silence.
Drallar was its capital and largest city. Thanks to fortuitous galactic co-ordinates and
the enlightened tax policies of a sucession of kings it was now also an inter-stellar clearing-
house for trade goods and commercial transactions. All of the great financial houses had at least
branch headquarters here, reserving their showier offices for the more 'civilized' planets. The
monarch and his civil service were no more than nominally corrupt, and the king saw to it that the
people were not swamped by repressive rules and regulations. Not that this was done out of love
for the common man. It was simply good business. And if there were no business, there would be no
taxes. No taxes would mean no government. And DO government would mean no king, a state of affairs
which the current monarch, his Driest Majesty King Dewe Nog Na XXIV, was at constant pains to


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avoid.
Then too, Drallar could be smelled.
In addition to the indigenous humans, the business of Drallar was conducted by half a
hundred intelligent races. To keep this conglomeration of commerce pulsing smoothly, a fantastic
diversity of organic fuels was demanded. So the central marketplace Itself was encircled by a
seemingly infinite series of serving stands, auto-chefs, and restaurants that formed in actuality
one great, uninterrupted kitchen. The resulting comb; nation of aromas generated by these
establishments mingled to form an atmosphere un duplicated anywhere else in the known galaxy. On
more refined trade stops such exotic miasmas were kept decently locked away. In Drallar t h ere
was no ozone to contaminate. One man's bread was another man's narcotic. And one man's narcotic
could conceivably make another being nauseous.
But by some chance of chemistry, or chemistry of chance) the fumes blended so well in the
naturally moist air that any potentially harmful effects were cancelled out. Left only was an ever-
swirling thick perfume that tick led one's throat and left unexpecting mouths in a state of
perpetual salivation. One could get a deceptively full and satisfying meal simply by sitting down
in the centre of the markets and inhaling for an hour. Few other places in the Arm had acquired