"Nancy Kress - The Flowers of Aulit Prison" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kress Nancy)

different path.
To gain time, I repeat my previous point. "World people are not so cruel."
"Then you -- "
The air suddenly sizzles, smelling of burning. People shout. I look up. Aka Pek Fakar stands
in the middle of the courtyard with the Terran gun, firing it at the Huhuhubs. One by one they
drop as the beam of light hits them and makes a sizzling hole. The aliens pass into the second
stage of their perpetual death.
I stand and tug on Pek Walters's arm. "Come on. We must clear the area immediately or the
guards will release poison gas."
"Why?"
"So they can get the bodies into bondage chemicals, of course!" Does this alien think the
prison officials would let the unreal get even a little bit decayed? I thought that after our
several conversations, Pek Walters understood more than that.
He rises slowly, haltingly, to his feet. Pek Fakar, laughing, strolls toward the door, the gun
still in her hand.
Pek Walters says, "World people not cruel?"
Behind us, the bodies of the Huhuhubs lie sprawled across each other, smoking.


The next time we are herded from our cells into the dining hall and then the courtyard, the
Huhuhub corpses are of course gone. Pek Walters has developed a cough. He walks more
slowly, and once, on the way to our usual spot against the far wall, he puts a hand on my arm
to steady himself.
"Are you sick, Pek?"
"Exactly," he says.
"But you are a healer. Make the cough disappear."
He smiles, and sinks gratefully against the wall. "'Healer, heal own self.'"
"What?"
"Nothing. So you are informer, Pek Bengarin, and you hope I tell you something about
science experiments on children on World."
I take a deep breath. Pek Fakar passes us, carrying her gun. Two of her own people now
stay close beside her at all times, in case another prisoner tries to take the gun away from
her. I cannot believe anyone would try, but maybe I'm wrong. There's no telling what the
unreal will do. Pek Walters watches her pass, and his smile is gone. Yesterday Pek Fakar shot
another person, this time not even an alien. There is a note under my bed requesting more
guns.
I say, "You say I am an informer. I do not say it."
"Exactly," Pek Walters says. He has another coughing spell, then closes his eyes wearily. "I
have not an-tee-by-otics."
Another Terran word. Carefully I repeat it. "'An-tee-by-otics'?"
"Pro-teenz for heal."
Again that word for very small bits of food. I make use of it. "Tell me about the pro-teenz
in the science experiments."
"I tell you everything about experiments. But only if you answer questions first."
He will ask about my sister. For no reason other than rudeness and cruelty. I feel my face
turn to stone.
He says, "Tell me why steal baby not so bad for make person unreal always."
I blink. Isn't this obvious? "To steal a baby doesn't damage the baby's reality. It just grows
up somewhere else, with some other people. But all real people of World share the same
reality, and anyway after the transition, the child will rejoin its blood ancestors. Baby stealing