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

"I wouldn't until you all were ready to work."

"Then we must thank you even more." He made an old-style courtly bow with an easy grace the modern
imitators couldn't mimic. "We're indebted. However, our Emperor has commanded our presence, and
we will obey."

The creature squirming in her arms, the very solemn Dushau before her, the onlookers ignored behind
her, the decadence of the raw fire beside her, all combined to transport Krinata into the past and render
her speechless.

Jindigar paused, as if waiting for some ritual reply, and when it didn't come, he said with difficulty, "May I
ask a different service?"

He sounded like an actor in an authentic historical. "Jindigar, I don't know how to don imperial
courtliness. I'm a programming ecologist, not a member of the court."

"I see," he said thoughtfully. The faint thrumming of imperial music came to them, and Jindigar tilted his
head to listen. "We don't have much time. I suspect, if Rantan is really serious about this game, he'll be
offended if we appear in hospital garb." He turned, went to the rack of clothing against the wall, and
fingered the material. "Authentic, too. Hideously uncomfortable. But I suppose we must dress." He took
down one of the garments, raking it with his eyes. "Somebody researched usтАФor raided a museum!"

He went toward Kamminth and the others, holding out the crisp gold and white robes. In an archaically
flavored Dushauni dialect which she could follow only because of her intensive study of the modern
language, he said, "I hope you remember your manners. We've got to play this out."

The four of them had relaxed now, too, Jindigar's sense of reality having seeped through their nerves.
Kamminth took the robes, examined them, and agreed. The others went to the rack and selected their
own garments. Jindigar took a pure yellow surplice over a white undertunic edged with black fringe. They
all stripped and dressed without even fumbling at the awkward fastenings. The fine indigo nap covered
every bit of them, giving them an oddly dressed look even without clothing. She hardly noticed their lack
of mammary glands or external genitalia; general size and shape distinguished male from female. It was
their familiarity with the antique dress mode that fascinated Krinata.

She watched spellbound as Jindigar wound a long gold sash around his head to make a turban, and got it
right the first time, without a mirror. Looking at him, Krinata identified the costume: Dushaun's first rank
sept, and a highly born member of it, too. Three hundred years ago, she'd hardly have been allowed to
speak to him. Kamminth likewise claimed aristocratic lineage, but the other three men were
undistinguished.

Without a trace of self-consciousness in his outlandish costume, Jindigar came toward her and rendered
an elaborate bow, uttering a formal salutation to Zavarrone.

She shrank away in raw embarrassment. "This is silly!"

His manner changed abruptly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disconcert you. Apparently, we must learn a
new culture."

"It's just me," she said, suppressing a need to squirm. 'This is all such a waste of time."