"William Kotzwinkle - The Amphora Project" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kotzwinkle William)

receive vibratory patterns from the metabolic processes of other brains, and
metabolic tremors were now reaching him from the moon below. Amid the usual
garbage of human and alien emotion he discerned the emanation of a hunting
party-highly focused individuals on the prowl. As there was no game on the little
moon, what were they hunting?
A voice came from the flight deck radio. "Welcome to the Paper Lantern. Please
don't mind our little maze. It's to discourage unwanted visitors. You've been cleared
for landing." The sky mines parted, allowing them to pass.
The moon was marked with ridges that resembled the ribs of a lantern, but, as
descent continued, the ribs spaced themselves farther apart until the illusion of a
lantern was dispelled. A carpet of lights rolled up from the night horizon, gained
definition, and became the protective dome of a controlled environment-a pink
translucent shell glowing from within.
"Let's try not to dent anything too badly," said Jockey. The burly pirate turned the
ship nose up, and the Temperance, like an inverted candle whose flame was dying,
settled onto a landing pad. When the engines quieted down, he walked back to the
salon to join his passenger. "Your higher education continues, dear boy," he said to
Adrian Link. Link was Chief of Soil, Plant, and Insect Control of the Agricultural
Department of Planet Immortal, a weighty position for one so young. Link's utility
robot, Upquark, sat beside him, concern in his artificial eyes. His robotic analysis of
the situation was that journeys with Jockey were likely to put Adrian at risk; the pirate
always had some ulterior motive when he invited Adrian on a trip. I have much to
contend with, thought the little robot.
Lizardo stepped past them and opened the hatch. He stretched his neck, gazing
suspiciously left and right. A ring of white scales around his neck gave him the look
of a priest, but any confessions he heard came with his claws wrapped around
someone's throat.
The others followed him out through the hatch, and a pneumatic bus shot them to
the dome. As they entered the nightclub, Link stared up into the rosy dome and
caught his breath. What at first looked like a moving tapestry proved to be the
fluttering of wings. Rare butterflies were circling there.
"Did I lie?" asked Jockey.
For an instant Link couldn't speak. Then he said, "For once, no."
The pirate flung an arm around his young friend. "You'd see marvels every night if
you joined all my expeditions."
"My calculations indicate it is more likely you'd see the inside of a jail," interjected
Upquark. "The incarceration probability for Commander Oldcastle is rated as
extremely high."
Jockey twitched his nose in the direction of a roasted magdabeest floating by him
on a tray. "Is that wakmaz sauce I smell?"
"We came on business," hissed Lizardo impatiently.
"What have you got for appetizers?" Jockey asked the waitress, as she led them to
a table. "Never mind, bring them all."
Link's gaze remained on the butterflies and moths animating the ceiling. None of
them could be seen in the wild anymore; the artificial world of the Paper Lantern was
one of their few remaining habitats. An enormous moth flew down and hung in the
air in front of him, beating its velvet wings.
"Found a confidante?" asked Jockey. "What does she know?"
"Everything," said Link in a low voice.
"Then induce her to talk."