"Foster, Alan Dean - Flinx - Bloodhype" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

The youth grew ten centimeters. Hate yourself, hussy, half of her thought!
Love it. came the other half's reply!

"There's someone been waiting up for you in your room. He has diplomatic
credentials, so I couldn't keep him out. Says he's an old friend. He's not
human."

"That's all right. I'm expecting him. His name's Porsupah, isn't it?"

"Yes," the boy said in surprise. "You know him, then?" "I've been his
mistress for five years. Those Tolians ... She rolled her eyes as the door
to the lift closed, leaving a fish?eyed clerk below. Somehow she contained
her laughter. By eventide 90 percent of the hotel staff would know about
the "stranger" in room 36.

Her apartments were at the end of the hallway. She inserted her right thumb
into the small recess at the left of the room number. The door registered
her with the central computer and it slid back with the slightest hiss from
the pneumatic guide rail.

She had a small suite. It was tastefully decorated, just extravagant enough
to be in keeping with bar supposed income. A well?stuffed conversation
round was at one end of the greeting room, facing a broad ocean?view
window. The being perched on it was the only thing out of place in the
room.

That worthy stared back at her evenly. It ... he ... was just over a meter
and a third in height. He looked remarkably like an oversized, portly
raccoon. The major differences from the tiny tartan mammal consisted of six
long, dexterous fingers, more massive forearms, and a high, intelligent
brow. There was no mask, the ears were sharply pointed and proportionately
larger than the terran look?alike, and the rear feet were webbed.

It also possessed a biting tenor voice. This it used at her entrance, with
practiced effect.

"Where the conceptualized clam excretement have you BEEN?"

Kitten tossed her thighbag on a small table holding local magazines and a
vase of dampish green flowers.

"Conceptualized clam excretement ... I like that one, Pors. Your knowledge
of arcane invective is always stimulating." She walked across the room to
the bedroom portal and pecked in. "I see, wonder of wonders, that my
luggage arrived reasonably intact and together. Did you over tip the
bellhop again?"

"I was not here at the time they were deposited. Doubtless they were
transported by a mechanism."