"Alan Dean Foster - Flinx 5 - Flinx in Flux" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

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away. Gradually instinct took over where understanding was lacking. As they flew
wider and wider circles around her, Flinx could feel the bonds between mother
and offspring weakening. They did not break but became steadily less intense. It
was at once beautiful and painful to watch, and it filled him with a righteous
peace.
He no longer wondered if he had done the right thing in bringing them here. The
dance of the minidrags continued, their incredibly agile shapes darting and
spinning, iridescent scales catching the rising sun. Eventually they broke away
one at a time, like children taking turns at the end of crack‑the‑whip, to
vanish into the trees on the far side of the lake. Now they had truly returned
to the world that had given them birth. Flinx inhaled deeply.
"Well and done," be said aloud, knowing that the words would not be understood
but that Pip would perfectly comprehend what he was feeling. "That's that, old
girl. Time you and I got back. It's warming up out."
Pip came shooting back to him, stopping instantly to hover a meter before his
face. The long pointed tongue flashed at his nose and eyelids before she pivoted
to settle comfortably on his neck and shoulders.
He allowed himself a final look at the lake, its surface still as glass. Then he
turned to retrace the route he had chopped through the jungle. If Pip was sorry
to see her offspring go, she gave no sign of it. If he sensed anything in her,
it was a vast contentment.
Of course, he had no way of telling if he was actually feeling what she was
feeling or if it was no more than a reflection of his own emotions. His peculiar
sensibilities were as much of a mystery to him as ever, though each passing year
seemed to bring him a little closer to coming to grips with them. It was like
trying to strangle fog. One instant the talent was as solid and real as steel,
and the next he would try to use it and there would be nothing there, nothing at
all.
He worked hard trying to understand the mystery of himself. As he trudged
through the mud, he tried to avoid brushing against the surrounding vegetation.
In the jungle every leaf seemed to shelter something toothy or toxic. He was
beginning to respect his talents instead of fearing and hating them. If only
they were more predictable! Hard to build a fence when something kept taking
away your hammer the instant before it struck each nail. So far his abilities
had served to cause him trouble more than anything else. Unfortunately, he would
have to learn to live with them. He could no more disown them than he could
engage in self‑mutilation.
Pip stirred against him even as the surge of emotion roared through him. He
stopped and turned as he heard the humming.
A single adolescent minidrag hovered noisily before him. When he had turned on
it, the yearling had backed wind, retreating until it was two meters away. There
it remained, staring back intently.
Flinx knew he was not the first human being to establish a tight emotional bond
with an Alaspinian minidrag. There were tales of other prospectors who had done
so. He had met one such individual himself little more than a year ago. That
man's minidrag, Balthazaar, had mated with Pip. But he had never heard of anyone