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

"Besides, we have guests staying with us who come up to Patra regularly, twice a year for many years, and who in all that time have never seen anything bigger than a five-meter minnow. Your first time and you've participated in a catch. You should feel proud."
"I didn't catch it," he corrected her quickly. "You did."
"Sorry, modesty's not permitted on this lake. Catching. even a penestral's a cooperative effort. Dodging is just as important as firing the gun. Otherwise, we end up on his trophy wall." She jabbed a thumb in the direction of the inflated bulk now secured to the side of the catamaran.
A weight settled gently onto Flinx's left shoulder. 'I hoped you hadn't gone off to try and attack it," he said to the minidrag as it slipped multiple coils around his arm. "It's good to know you have some instinct for self-preservation." The flying snake stared quizzically back at him, then closed its eyes and relaxed.
Flinx inspected what he could see of the penestral while the jet boat headed back toward the southern shore. "Those people ia the mudders, they didn't stand a chance." "Never knew what hit them," Lauren agreed. "I'm sure they weren't carrying any kind of tracking equipment. No reason for it. If our tracker had been out of order, we'd have joined the mudders in the penestral's belly."
A quick death at least, Flinx thought. Death was a frequent visitor to the unwary in the Drallarian marketplace, so he was no stranger to it. Thoughts of death reminded him of Mother Mastiff. Would his persistence result in her captors' deciding she wasn't worth the trouble anymore? What might they have in mind for her, now that her presence had caused the death of a number of them? Surely, he decided, they wouldn't kill her out of hand.
They had gone to so much trouble already.
But the thought made him worry even more.
Exhilarated by the fight, Lauren's voice was slightly elevated and hurried. She had reason to be short of wind, Flinx thought. "One of these days, Flinx, after we've finished with this business, you'll have to come back up here. I'll take you over to Lake Hozingar or Utuhuku. Now those are respectable-sized lakes and home to some decent-sized fish. Not like poor little Patra, here. At Hozingar, you can see the real meaning of the name The-Blue-That-Blinded."
Flinx regarded the immense carcass slung alongside the jet boat in light of her words. "I know there are bigger lakes than this one, but I didn't know they held bigger penestrals."
"Oh, the penestral's a midrange predator," she told him conversationally. "On Hozingar you don't go fishing for penestral. You fish for oboweir."
"What," Flinx asked, "is an oboweir?"
"A fish that feeds regularly on penestrala."
"Oh," he said quietly, trying to stretch his Imagination to handle the picture her words had conjured up.
Quite a crowd was waiting to greet them as they tied up at the lodge pier. Lauren had moored the inflated penestral to a buoy nearby. The carcass drew too much water to be brought right inshore.
Flinx slipped through the oohing and ahhing guests, leaving Lauren to handle the questions. Several of her employees fought their way to her and added questions of their own. Eventually, the crowd began to break up, some to return to their rooms, others to remain to gawk at the fish bobbing slowly on the surface.
Flinx had collapsed gratefully into a chair on the porch that encircled the main building. "How much do you want for the use of the skimmer and a tracker?" he asked Lauren when she was able to join him. "Ill-need you to show me how to use it, of course."
She frowned at him. "I'm not sure I follow you, Flmx."
"I told you, I'm going after them. You've made it possible for me to do that, and I'm very grateful to you."
She looked thoughtful. "Management will scream when they find out I've taken out the skimmer for personal use. They're a lot more expensive than a jet boat or mudder. We'll have to be careful with it."
He still wasn't listening to her, his mind full of plans for pursuing the Mdnappers. "I don't know how I'll ever repay you for this, Lauren." "Don't worry about it. The lodge's share of profit from the disposal of the penestral ought to defray all the operating expenses. Come on, get yourself and your snake out of that chair. We have to gather supplies. The skimmer's usually used for making quick runs between here and Attock. That's where we pick up our guests. We'll need to stock some food, of course, and I want to make sure the engine is fully charged. And if I don't take ten minutes to comb my hair out, I'm going to die." She tugged at the tangles of black ringlets that the action on the lake had produced.
"Just a minute." This time it was Flinx who put out the restraining hand as he bounded out of the chair. "I think I've misunderstood. You don't mean you're coming with me?"
"You don't know how to use the tracking equipment," she pointed out.
"I can figure it out," he assured her confidently. "It didn't take me long to figure out how to handle the boat, did it?"
"You don't know the country."
"I'm not interested in the country," he responded. "I'm not going on a sightseeing trip. That's what the tracker's for, isn't it? Just loan the stuff to me. I'll pay you back somehow. Let me just have the tracker and a charge for my mudder, if you're worried about the skimmer." "You're forgetting about my wervils. Besides, you can't track a skimmer with a mudder. What if you hit a can-you?"
"Surely you're not giving up your work here," he said, trying another tack, "just so you can seek revenge for the deaths of a couple of pets?"
"I told you, wervils are an endangered species on Moth. And I also told you how I feel about animals."
"I know," he protested, "but that still doesn't-"
He broke off his protest as she reached out to ruffle his hair. "You know, you remind me of another wervil I cared for once, though his fur wasn't quite as bright as yours. Near enough, though." Then she went on more seriously. "Flinx, I don't like these people, whoever they are. I don't like them because of what they've done to you, and I don't like them because of what they've done to me. Because of that, I'm going to help you as well as myself. Because I'd be going out after them whether you were hereor not, for the sake of Sennar and Soba.
"Don't try to deny that you couldn't use a little help and don't give me any of that archaic nonsense about your not wanting me along because I'm a woman."
"Oh, don't worry," he told her crisply. "The last thing I'd try to do would be to inflict any archaic nonsense on you."
That caused her to hesitate momentarily, uncertain whether he was joking or not. "Anyway," she added, "if I can't go, not that you can stop me, then you couldn't go, either. Because I'm the only one who has access to the skimmer."
It was not hard for Flinx to give in. "I haven't got time to argue with you."
"And also the sense not to, I suspect. But you're right about the time. The tracker should pick up the gel underneath their skimmer right away, but let's not play our luck to the limit. I don't know what kind of skimmer they were using. I've never seen the like before, so I've no idea if it's faster than usual. We go together, then?"
"Together. On two conditions, Lauren."
Again, she found herself frowning at him. Just when she thought she could predict his actions, he would do something to surprise her again. "Say them, anyway."
"First, that Pip continues to tolerate you." He rubbed the back of the flying snake's head affectionately. It rose delightedly against the pressure. "You see, I have certain feelings toward animals myself."
"And the other condition?" she inquired.
"If you ever touch my hair like that again, you'd better be prepared for me to kick your lovely backside all the way to the Pole. Old ladies have been doing that to me ever since I can remember, and I've had my fill of it!"
She grinned at him. "It's a deal, then. I'm glad your snake isn't as touchy as you are. Let's go. I have to leave a message for my superiors in case they call in and want to know not only where their skimmer is but their lodge manager as well."
When she informed the assistant manager of the lodge, he was very upset. "But what do I tell Kilkenny if he calls from Attoka? What if he has guests to send up?"
"We're not expecting anyone for another week. You know that, Sal. Tell him anything you want." She was arranging items in a small sack as she spoke. "No, tell him I've gone to the aid of a traveler in distress across the Sake. That's an acceptable excuse in any circumstance."
The assistant looked past her to where Flinx stood waiting impatiently, chucking Pip under its jaw and staring in the direction of the lake.
"He doesn't look like he's very distressed to me."
"His distress is well hidden," Lauren informed him, "which is more than I can say for you, Sal. I'm surprised at you. We'll be back real soon."
"Uh-huh. It's just that I'm not a very good liar, Lauren. You know that."
"Do the best you can." She patted his cheek affectionately. "And I'm not lying. He really is in trouble."
"But the skimmer, Lauren."
"You still have the lodge mudders and the boats. Short of a major catastrophe of some kind, I can see no reason why you'd need the skimmer. It's really only here to be used in case of emergency. To my mind"-she gestured toward Flinx-"this is an emergency."