"Jacqueline Lichtenberg - Dushau Trilogy 01 - Dushau" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lichtenberg Jacqueline)

Jindigar grinned. "It's a deal! I'll see you there!"

The red haze shrank until Trinarvil's figure was sharply outlined. She made another formal obeisance and
faded.

The silence was so deep Krinata could hear the ice melting in their forgotten drinks. She understood the
ambassador was leaving Onerir and Jindigar was staying, but the reasons had escaped her. Nearly an
hour later, still in total silence Dinai and Seum rose and went into the guest room she'd given them.

Jindigar muttered, "I'll explain tomorrow," and followed his zunre. Krinata let Fiella make up the sitting
room guest bed. Her own room, with its pink rose-petal carpet, violet drapes and mint green bedding
seemed to mock her mood. She couldn't believe the Allegiancy would fall apart in her lifetime. To
Dushau, "immediately" might be three hundred years from now.

She heard the water running in the guest bathroom, and muffled Dushau voices while she was bathing.
Fiella scolded her on the condition of her formal attireтАФpiol dropping stains, Dushau urine from Dinai's
convulsions. She hadn't even realized that she hadn't changed. "I'm sorry, Fiella. It won't happen again."

"Never mind," said Fiella from the bathroom screen. "We haven't had guests since your mother died. We
should do things like this more often, even if it costs a few suits. They are so wonderfully courteous." She
sighed. "Arlai says you were so heroic, rescuing Dinai and all."

She wasn't about to argue with the Sentients, so she distracted Fiella by asking for the syntax and
vocabulary to retrack that interview and understand it while she slept. Then she snuggled into her bed and
turned on the sleep field.

She woke four hours later, when the field went off automatically. Since she'd gotten over her mother's
death, she'd always slept through that abatement, waking naturally at dawn. She tossed fretfully for a
while, then tried combing her forearms with her fingernails and pressing her thumbs into the palms of her
hands to trigger the sleep reflexes. She felt a mild relaxation from it, but then a vision surfaced of the piol
left out on the balcony.

Before she knew it, she was on her feet, grabbing a robe and opening her door. The sitting-room lights
were on low, and Jindigar was at the desk terminal, one hand propping his chin, the piol curled on his
head and snoring while he scanned old records of the Raichmat expeditions and made new entries with
his free hand.

The animal poked its head up, then scrambled down Jindigar and climbed up her robe, leaving claw
marks on the delicate fabric. She plucked it off and cradled it in one arm as Jindigar roused to ask, "Did I
wake you?"

"No, I just remembered leaving the piol outside."

Chagrined, Jindigar said, "I'd forgotten him, too. But I couldn't sleep."

She settled cross-legged on a nearby ottoman and turned the piol over to look for genitals. "Neither
could I. How do you tell it's a he?"

"Well, you might say we asked him." He forced a grin onto his ravaged features. "Not very helpful, am I?
Here." He reached for the animal and turned its rear to her, raising its tail. "Females usually have a light