"Alan Dean Foster - Flinx 4 - End of the Matter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

Commonwealth. Both wore skin-tight jet-black jump- suits ending in black ankle boots. Those
boots, he knew, contained many things besides feet, A decorative cape of black and rust-red
streamers fluttered from each collar to the waist, like the tail of an alien bird.
Having heard of the Qwarm but never having had the opportunity to see one, Flinx paused at a small
booth. Pretending to inspect a copper-crysacolla pitcher, he surreptitiously eyed the two
retreating strangers.
Standing behind them now, he could no longer see their faces, but he knew that the bodies inside
the jumpsuits would be as hairless as their heads were beneath the black skullcaps. Red foil
designs marked each cap, the only decorative touch aside from the streamers on their clothing.
Various pouches and containers hung from each black belt-pouches and containers which held a great


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many varieties of death, Flinx knew. If he remembered correctly, each belt would be joined in
front by a buckle cut from a single orange-red vanadium crystal, which would be inlaid with a gold
skull-and-crossbones. Their uniform was sufficient to identify them.
The crowd parted for them without panic. To run might be to give offense. No one desired to give
offense to a Qwarm.
Flinx took a step away from the booth-and froze. Unbidden, as it often was, his talent had
unexpectedly given him an image. The image was of incipient murder. He hadn't sought the
information. The most frustrating feature of his peculiar abilities was that they of- ten
functioned most effectively when he had no need of them.
Instantly he knew that the man and woman were a husband-wife team and that their quarry was very
near. He tried for a picture of the quarry and, as he half expected, saw nothing.
Even more bewildering were the waves of curiosity and confusion that emanated from the Qwarm
couple. Flinx bad heard that the Qwarm were never puzzled about anything, least of all anything
related to their work. Someone was nearby whom they had to murder, and this puzzled them. Strange.
What could so puzzle a pair of professional killers?
Flinx cast about for an explanation and found only a mental blank. He was human and only human
once more. So he found himself torn between common sense and his damnably intense curiosity. If
only that powerful sensation of uncertainty from the couple hadn't leaped into his mind. Nothing
should puzzle a Qwarm so. Nothing! Cause concern, yes, because murder was still illegal and if
caught they could be tried and punished by the authorities.
But confusion? Impossible!
Suddenly Flinx found himself walking not toward the receding solidity of the administration center
but back into the depths of the sprawling, chaotic marketplace. The black-clad pair were easy to
follow. They were utterly devoid of suspicion. Qwarm stalked others; no one followed a Qwarm.
Despite Pip's nervous stirrings on his shoulder, Flinx moved closer. Still the Qwarm gave no
indication that they were at all aware of him. At the moment he had nothing in mind beyond
following the two killers to the source of their confusion.
A small crowd formed a bottleneck just ahead. The black-clad couple paused and talked together in
whispers. Flinx thought he could sense muscles tensing. They ceased conversing and seemed to be
straining to see over the heads of the cluster of beings ahead of them.
Moving forward, Flinx encountered a low section of ancient wall off to one side. Part of it was
occupied by seated figures staring over the heads of the crowd. No one spared him a glance as he
mounted the wall and joined them. Seated securely on the damp, slick stone, he found he could
easily see over the heads of even the tall avians in the crowd, which consisted mostly of local
humans sprinkled with a few warmly bundled thranx and a smattering of other alien types. His