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

"Restrain her. She knows enough now to do something foolish to herself."
One of the new arrivals held Mother Mastiff's right arm and glanced back toward Brora. "Anesthetic, sir?" "No, not yet." Mother Mastiff stared at the horrid little man and shuddered as he spoke quietly to the black woman. "What do you think, Haithness?"
She examined Mother Mastiff. "Tomorrow is soon enough. I'm tired. Better to begin fresh. We'll all need to be alert."
Brora nodded in agreement, leaving the two younger men to bind the raving Mother Mastiff.
Later that evening, over dinner, Nyassa-lee said to Haithness, "The woman's advanced age still gives me concern."
"She's not that old," the taller woman said, spooning down something artificial but nourishing. "With care, she has another twenty years of good health to look forward to."
"I know, but she hasn't the reserves of a woman of fifty anymore, either. It's just as well we haven't told her how complex tomorrow's operation is or explained that her mind will be permanently altered."
Haithness nodded agreement. "There's hardly any need to upset her any more than she already is. Your excessive concern for her welfare surprises me."
Nyassa-lee picked at her food and did not comment, but Haithness refused to let the matter drop.
"How many of our friends have perished at the hands of the government? How many have been mindwiped? It's true that if this old woman dies, we lose an important element in the experiment, but not necessarily a final one. We've all agreed that implanting her is the best way to proceed."
"I'm not arguing that," Nyassa-lee said, "only reminding you that we should be prepared for failure."
Brora leaned back in his chair and sighed. He was not hungry; he was too excited by the prospects raised by the operation.
"We will not fail, Nyassa-lee. This is the best chance we've had in years to gain control over a really promising Subject. We won't fail." He looked over at Haithness. "I checked the implants before dinner."
"Again?"
"Nothing else to do. I couldn't stand just Waiting around. The circuitry is complete, cryogenic enervation constant. I anticipate no trouble in making the synaptic connections." He glanced toward Nyassa-lee. "The woman's age notwithstanding.
"As to the part of the old woman that will unavoidably be lost due to the operation"-he shrugged-"I've studied the matter in depth and see no way around it. Not that there seems a great deal worth preserving. She's an ignorant primitive. If anything, the implants and resulting excisions will result in an improved being."
"Her strongest virtues appear to be cantankerousness and obstinacy," Haithness agreed, "coupled to an appalling ignorance of life outside her immediate community."
'Typical speciman," Brora said. "Ironic that such a low example should be the key not only to our greatest success but our eventual vindication."
Nyassa-lee pushed away her food. Her colleague's con- versation was upsetting to her. "What time tomorrow?"
"Reasonably early, I should think," Haithness murmured. "It will be the best time for the old woman, and better for us not to linger over philosophy and speculation."
Brora was startled at the latter implication. "Surely you don't expect the boy to show up?"
"You'd best stop thinking of him as a boy."
"He barely qualifies as a young adult."
"Barely is sufficient. Though he's demonstrated nothing in the way of unexpected talent so far, his persistent pursuit of his adopted mother is indication enough to me that he possesses a sharp mind in addition to Talent." She smiled thinly at Nyassa-lee. "You see, my dear, though I do not share your proclivity to panic in this case, I do respect and value your opinion."
"So you are expecting him?"
"No, I'm not," Haithness insisted, "but it would be awkward if by some miracle he were to show up here prior to the operation's successful completion. Once that is accomplished, we'll naturally want to make contact with him through his mother. When he finds her unharmed and seemingly untouched, he will relax into our control."
"But what if he does show up prior to our returning the old woman to Drallar?"
"Don't worry," Haithness said. "I have the standard story prepared, and our personnel here have been well coached in the pertinent details."
"You think he'd accept that tale?" Nyassa-lee asked. "That hoary old business of us being an altruistic society of physicians dedicated to helping the old and enfeebled against the indifference of government medical facilities?"
"It's true that we've utilized the story in various guises before, but it will be new to the subject," Haithness reminded her colleague. "Besides, as Brora says, he barely qualifies as an adult, and his background does not suggest sophistication. I think he'll believe us, especially when we restore his mother to him. That should be enough to satisfy him. The operation will, of course, be rendered cosmetically undetectable."
"I do better work on a full night's sleep." Brora abruptly pushed back from the table. "Especially prior to a hard day's work."
They all rose and started toward their quarters, Brora contemplating the operation near at hand, Haithness the chances for success, and only Nyassa-lee the last look in Mother Mastiff's eyes.

Chapter Twelve

They had to be close to their destination because their quarry had been motionless for more than an hour. That's when the pain hit Flinx; sharp, hot, and unexpected as al- ways. He winced and shut his eyes tight while Pip stirred nervously on its master's shoulder.
Alarmed, Lauren turned hurriedly to her young companion. "What is it? What's wrong, Flinx?"
"Close. We're very close."
"I can tell that by looking at the tracker," she said.
"It's her, it's Mother Mastiff."
"She's hurt?" Already Lauren was dropping the skimmer into the woods. The minidrag writhed on Flinx's shoulder, hunting for an unseen enemy.
"She's-she's not hurting," Flinx mumbled. "She's- there's worry in her, and fear. Someone's planning to do something terrible to her. She fears for me, too, I think. But I can't understand-1 don't know what or wh-"
He blinked. Pip ceased his convulsions. "It's gone. Damn it, it's gone." He kicked at the console in frustration. "Gone and I can't make it come back."
"I thought-"

He interrupted her; his expression was one of resignation. "I have no control over the Talent. No control at all. These feelings hit me when I least expect them, and never, it seems, when I want them to. Sometimes I can't even locate the source. But this time it was Mother Mastiff. I'm sure of it."
"How can you tell that?" Lauren banked the skimmer to port, dodging a massive emergent.
"Because I know how her mind feels."
Lauren threw him an uncertain look, then decided there was no point in trying to comprehend something beyond her ken.
The skimmer slowed to a crawl and quickly settled down among the concealing trees on a comparatively dry knoll. After cutting the power, Lauren moved to the rear of the cabin and began assembling packs and equipment. The night was deep around them, and the sounds of nocturnal forest dwellers began to seep into the skimmer.