"Foster, Alan Dean - Flinx 1 - For Love of Mother-Not" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

There was also the possibility the invader might not even be dangerous. She certainly did not recognize it. In the ninety plus years she had spent on Moth, she had seen nothing like it. For one thing, there was no hint of fur any-where on its body. Only scales. That immediately identified it as a non-native. Well, maybe. Moth was home to a few creatures-deep-digging burrowers-that did not sport fur. This didn't look like a burrower to her, but she was no zoologist, nor had she ever traveled far outside the city limits.
Yet she felt certain it came from offworld. Something she couldn't put a mental finger on marked the beast as alien, but that didn't matter. What did was that it had somehow penetrated to the boy's room, and she had better do something about it before it woke up and decided the matter for her.
Get it away from him, she told herself. Away from his head, at least. Get it away, keep it occupied, then wake the boy and have him make a run for the gun under her pillow.
The broom she hefted had a light metal handle and wire bristles. Taking it out of storage, she re-entered Flinx's room and reached past his head with the broom's business end. The metal bristles prodded the invader.
The snake stirred at the touch, opened its eyes, and stared at her. She jabbed at it again, harder this time, trying to work the bristles between the snake's head and the boy's exposed neck. It opened its mouth, and she instinctively Jerked back, but it was only a yawn. Still sleepy, then, she thought. Good, its reactions would be slowed. Leaning forward again, she reached down and shoved hard on the broom. Several of the snake's coils went rolling over to the side of the bed, and for the first time she had a glimpse of its brilliant coloring.
Again, she shoved with the broom, but the snake was no longer on the bed. It hovered in midair, its wings moving so rapidly they were no more than a blue-pink blur. They generated a rich, vibrant humming sound in the small room. Aghast and uncertain how to attack this new threat, Mother Mastiff backed away, holding the broom defensively in front of her. Awakened by the last shove of the broom, the boy blinked sleepily at her. "Mother? What is it?"
"Hush, be quiet!" she warned him. "I don't know how this thing got into your room, but-"
Flinx sat up quickly. He glanced up at the hovering snake, admiring it for the first time in daylight, and bestowed a reassuring grin on Mother Mastiff.
"Oh, that. That's just Pip."
The broom dipped slightly, and she stared narrowly at her charge. "Ye mean, ye know what it be?"
"Sure," he said cheerfully. "I, uh, heard something; last night, so I went outside to investigate." He gestured with a thumb at the snake. "It was back in the garbage, cold and hungry. Hey, I bet he's still hungry, and-
"I'll bet it is, too," she snapped, "and III not have some scaly, gluttonous carrion eater crawling about my house. Get out!" she yelled at it. "Shoo!" She swung the broom at the snake once, twice, a third time, forcing Flinx to duck the flying bristles. Each time, the snake dodged nimbly in the air, displaying unexpected aerial agility. Once it darted straight to its left, then backward, then toward the ceiling.
"Don't!" Flinx shouted, suddenly alarmed. "It might think you're trying to hurt me."
"A guardian angel with beady eyes and scales? Mockmush, boy, it knows well what I'm swinging at!"
In fact, the snake was well aware the new human had no intention of banning its symbiote, for it could feel the honest affection and warmth flowing between them. It did not worry on that score. Conversely, no love flowed toward it from the new person, and the shiny thing that was being thrust at it was hard to avoid in the small, enclosed space.
"Please, Mother," Flinx pleaded anxiously, scrambling out of bed and dragging the blanket with him, "stop it. I don't know how it'll react."
"We're going to find out, boy," she told him grimly. The broom struck, missed, bounced off the far wall. She cocked her arms for another swing.
The snake bad been patient, very patient. It understood the bond between the two humans. But the broom had backed it into a comer, and the hard bristles promised danger if they connected solidly with the snake's wings. It opened its mouth. There was a barely perceptible squirting sound. A thin, tight stream of clear liquid shot forward. It sparkled in the light and impacted on the broom as it was swinging forward. As Mother Mastiff recovered and brought the broom back for yet another strike, she heard a faint but definite hissing that did not come from the snake.She hesitated, frowning, then realized the noise was coming from the broom. A glance showed that approximately half of the metal bristles had melted away. Something was foaming and sizzling as it methodically ate its way down the broom.
She dropped the weapon as if the metal handle had abruptly become red hot, her expression fearful. The liquid continued to sputter and hiss as it ate away the metal. Soon it had worked its way through the last stubble and was beginning to eat holes in the metal handle itself.
"Boy, get out of the room while ye have the chance," she called huskily, staring wide-eyed at the snake while continuing to back toward her own bedroom. "If it can do that to metal, there's no telling what-"
Flinx laughed, then hurriedly put a hand to his mouth and forced himself to be understanding. "I'm sorry, Mother," he said apologetically. "It's just that Pip would never hurt me. And he's just proved that he wouldn't hurt anyone close to me, either."
"How do ye know that?" she sputtered.
"You know," he replied, sounding puzzled, "I don't know how I know it. But it's true. Here, see?" He extended his left arm.
Still keeping a wary eye on the woman, who continued to block the exit, the snake zipped down to land on the proffered perch. In an instant, it had multiple coils wrapped around the human's shoulder. Then the snake relaxed, the pleated wings folding up to lie flat against the gleaming body.
"See?" Flinx lowered his arm and gently rubbed the back of the snake's head. "He's just naturally friendly."
"Naturally ugly, ye mean," Mother Mastiff snorted. Bending, she picked up the remnant of the broom and inspected it. All the bristles were gone, along with several centimeters of handle. A weak crackling still came from the raw edges of the tube where the metal had dissolved, though the extraordinarily corrosive liquid seemed to have largely spent itself.
She showed the remains of the broom to Flinx, still nervous about getting too near the thing wrapped around his shoulder. "See that? Imagine what it. would do to your skin."
"Oh, Mother, can't you see?" Flinx spoke with all the exasperation of the young for the aged. "He was protecting himself, but because he senses that you're important to me, he was careful not to spit any of it on you."
"Lucky thing for it," she said, some of her normal bravado returning. "Well, it can't stay here."
"Yes, it can," Flinx argued.
"No, it can't. I can't have some lethal varmint like that fluttering and crawling all over the place, frightening off the customers."
"He'll stay with me all the time," Flinx assured her soothingly. His hand continued to caress the snake's head. Its eyes closed contentedly. "See? He's Just like any other house pet. He responds to warmth and affection." Flinx brought forth his most mournful, pleading expression. It had the intended affect.
"Well, it won't get any warmth or affection from me," Mother Mastiff grumbled, "but if you're determined to keep it . . ."
"I think," Flinx added, throwing fuel on the fire, "he would become very upset if someone tried to separate us."
Mother Mastiff threw up her hands, simultaneously signifying acquiescence and acceptance. "Oh, Deity, why couldn't ye stumble over a normal pet, like a cat or a saniff? What does the little monster eat, anyways?"
"I don't know," Flinx admitted, remembering the hunger he had sensed the night before and resolving to do something about it soon. He had been hungry himself and knew more of the meaning of that word than most people. "Aren't most snakes carnivorous?"
"This one certainly looks like it," she said.
Reaching down, Flinx gently ran a forefinger along the edge of the snake's mouth until he could pry it open. The snake opened one eye and looked at him curiously but did not raise any objection to the intrusion. Mother Mastiff held her breath.
Flinx leaned close, inspecting. "The teeth are so small I can't tell for sure."
"Probably swallows its food whole," Mother Mastiff told him. "I hear that's the wav of it with snakes, through this be no normal snake and I wouldn't care to make no predictions about it, much less about its diet."
"I'll find out," Flinx assured her. "If you don't need me to help in the shop today-"
"Help, hahl No, go where ye will. Just make sure that creature goes with ye."
"I'm going to take him around the marketplace," Flinx said excitedly, "and see if anyone recognizes him. There's sure to be someone who will."
"Don't bet your blood on it, boy," she warned him. "It's likely an offworld visitor."
"I thought so, too," he told her. "Wouldn't that be interesting? I wonder how it got here?"
"Someone with a grudge against me brought it, probably," she muttered softly. Then, louder, she said, "There be no telling. If 'tis an escaped pet and a rare one, ye can be sure its owner will be stumbling about here soonest in search of it."
"We'll see." Flinx knew the snake belonged right where it was, riding his shoulder. It felt right. He could all but feel the wave of contentment it was generating.
"And while I'm finding out what he is," he added briskly, "I'll find out what he eats, too."
"Ye do that," she told him. "Fact be, why not spend the night at it? I've some important buyers coming around suppertime. They were referred to me through the Shopkeeper's Association and seem especial interested in some of the larger items we have, like the muriwood table. So ye take that awful whatever-it-be," and she threw a shaky finger in the direction of the snake, "and stay ye out 'til well after tenth hour. Then I'll think about letting the both of ye back into my house."
"Yes, Mother, thank you," He ran up to give her a kiss. She backed off.