"Alan Dean Foster - Flinx 2 - Tar Aiym Krang" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)noisy efforts to reclaim his property. In any case it had banned no one (Flinx knew otherewise,
and better than to boast the fact) and so none in the marketplace protested its presence to the authorities, although all wished with a passion it would go elsewhere. He moved to change the subject. 'How are you equipped for credit, Mother?' 'Fah! Poorly, as always. But,' and this with a sly, small grin, I should be able to manage for a while off that last transaction.' Id wager,' he chucked. He turned to survey the chromaticalllly coloured crowd which flowed unceasingly around and in front of the little shop, trying to gauge the proportion firweiilthy tourists among the everyday populace. The effort, as usual, made his head ache. 'A normal day's passings or not, Mother?' 'Oh, there's money out there now, all right! I can smell it. But it declines to come into my shop. Better luck to you, perhaps lad' 'Perhaps.' He walked out from under the awning and mounted the raised dais to the left of the shop. Carefully he set about rearranging the larger pots and pans which formed the bulk of Mother Mastiff's cheaper inventory to give himself sufficient room to work. His method of enticing an audience was simple and timeworn. He took four small brana balls from a pocket and began to juggle them. These were formed from the sap of a tree that grew only in Moth's equatorial belt. Under the sun's diffused UV they pulsed with a faint yellow light. They were per Feet for his needs, being solid and of a uniform consistency. A small crowd began to gather. He added a fifth ball now, and began to vary the routine by tossing them behind his back without breaking rhythm. The word was passed outwards like invisible tentacles, occasionally snatching fin of her person here, another there, from the fringes of the shuffling mob. Soon be bad acquired his own substantial little island of watchful beings. He whispered softy to the minidrag, almost buried in the soft fur. Pip uncurled himself from Flinx's shoulder, unfurling his leathery wings to their fullest extent. In spite of its rarity the crowd recognized the lethal shape and drew back. The snake soared into the air and performed a delicate, spiraling descent, to settle like a crown around the boy's head. It then proceeded to catch each ball arid toss it high into the air, changing the shape but not the rhythm of the act. The unbroken fluorescent trail took on a more intricate weave. A mild pattering of applause greeted this innovation. Jugglers were more than common in Drallar, but a young one who worked so deftly with a poisonous reptile was not. A few coins landed on the platform, occasionally bouncing metallically off the big pans. More applause and more coins when the snake flipped all five balls, one after another, into a small basket at the rear of the dais. 'Thank you, thank you, gentlebeings!' said Flinx, bowing theatrically, thinking, now for the real part of the act. 'And now, for your information, mystification, and elucidation . . . and a small fee' (mild laughter), 'I will endeavour to answer any question, any question, that any one in the audience, regardless of his race or planet of origin, would care to tempt me with.' There was the usual sceptical murmuring from the assembly, and not a few sighs of boredom. ' All the change in my pocket,' blurted a merchant in the first row, 'if you can tell me how much there is!' He grinned amid some nervous giggling from within the crowd. Fiinx ignored the sarcasm in the man's voice and stood quietly, eyes tightly shut. Not that they had to be. He could 'work' equally as well with them wide open. It was a piece of pure showmanship which the crowds always seemed to expect. Why they expected him to look inward when he had to look outwards remained ever-puzzling So him. He had no real idea how his answers came to him. One minute his mind was empty, fuzzy, and the next ... sometimes ... an answer would appear. Although 'appear' wasn't quite right either. Many times he didn't even understand the questions, especially in the case of alien questioners. Or the answers. |
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