"Alan Dean Foster - With friends like these." - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

idiot sitting here."
"Yes, sir,"
"Yes, sirтАФwhat?"
The philologist decided that this would be an auspicious tune to essay a First Contact. He hurried
out the door. At least, he thought, the native couldn't be much more difficult to communicate with
than the commander. He wished fervently that he was back in the community nest.
Trailing the philologist, the party made its way to the two natives.
"Uh," began the philologist, straining over the guttural syllables, "we come in peace, Terran.
Friends. Buddies. Comrades. Blut-bruderhood. We good-guys. You comprende?"
"Me, Tarzan; you Jane," said the Terran.
The philologist turned worriedly to Rappan. "I'm afraid I can't place his answer, sir. The


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reference is obscure. Shall I try again?"
"Skip it," said the Terran, in fluent, if archaic Galactico. "Ancient humorism. Surprising how old
jokes stand time better than most monuments." He seemed to sigh a little.
"You speak!" blurted the xenologist.
"An unfortunate malady of which I seem incapable of breaking myself. Sic transit gloryoski. Up the
Veen. But come on down to the house. Maria's making some ice creamтАФI hope you like
chocolateтАФyou're welcome to try it, although I don't think we'd have enough for King Kong, here."
Zinin decided to regard this unfamiliar aphorism as a neutral compliment. There wasn't much else
he could do. He tried to hunch his three-meter bulk lower, gave it up when he realized that he
didn't know whether the promised ice cream was a food, a paint, or a mild corrosive for cleaning
out reluctant teeth.
"We appreciate your hospitality, sir. We've come to discuss a very urgent matter with your
superiors. It involves perhaps more than you can comprehend." Here the Professor peered hard at
the native, who looked back at him with placid assurance. "Although I have a hunch you might have
some idea what I mean."
If the Terran noticed a change in the Professor's glance he gave no sign, but instead smiled
apologetically.
"Ice cream first."
The Terran's residence, when seen from close up, was a utilitarian yet not unbeautiful structure.
It appeared to be made mostly from native woods with a hint of metal only here and there. A small
quadruped was lying on its entrance step. It raised its head to gaze mournfully at the arrivals,
with wise eyes, before returning it to its former position on its forepaws. Had the Professor
known anything about the history of Terran canines, this quiet greeting would have been
interesting indeed.
The building proved to admit more light and air than had seemed probable from .the outside.
Furniture appeared to be mostly of the handmade variety, with here and there an occasional hint of
something machine-turned. Bright colors predominated but did not clash, not that the Terran color
scheme meant anything to the visitors anyway. At least the place was big enough to hold all.
The Jones's mate was a sprightly little dark woman of indeterminate age, much like her husband. A
single male sibling by the name of Flip stared solemnly from a window seat at the grouping of
guests assembled in his parents' den. He had a twig, or stick, which he would sometimes tap on the
floor.
"Now, Alex..." said the woman, fussing with a large wooden ice-cream maker, "you didn't tell me we
were having visitors. How am I supposed to prepare for these things if you don't tell me about