"Jacqueline Lichtenberg - Molt Brother" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lichtenberg Jacqueline)

Zref felt the tension drain out of him. "My parents would have found out what we've been doing afternoons sooner or
later. Besides, I'm curious about what they've hired an Interface for." There was no point asking Zaviv to divulge a
professional confidence.
The house was well lit when they came up the drive. It was one of the low, sprawling kren-style houses with two sides:
one for the family and one containing apartments for visiting mates. His parents rented the apartments to students,
who paid by doing chores. He saw one of the students looking out as the car halted, and he could imag-ine an excited
"He's here!" echoing through the building. As they came up the front steps, the door opened and light flared.
Suddenly, Zref felt out of place with his bare, dirty knees and rumpled shirt. His parents, dressed formal-ly for dinner,
greeted their Interface and then turned to their sons.
"Zref, Sudeen, we didn't expect you. Well, come inside. We'll set two more places for dinner."
They went into the library, while one of the students went toward the kitchen. The library was a huge, tidy room with
an untidy work table along one wall where three comnet terminals cluttered softly.
Going toward the one with the lit screen, his mother said, "The Vrashin tapes the other Interface enhanced for us are
very clear now."
The Brenilak appeared to study the screen; following his gaze, Zref saw three columns of repetitive, disciplined script
in no language he could recognize. The pattern blurred before his eyes, and he had a few seconds of bi-zarre deja vu
during which he seemed to remember writing those words, although their meaning remained tantalizingly beyond
recall. He came out of it, his heart pounding in his throat. Echoes of the cold dread he had felt that afternoon upon first
seeing the saltwater kren female filled his skull. Sudeen slid one scaled hand over Zref's elbow as cau-tiously as if Zref
were about to strike someone. "Zref, you're shaking. What's the matter?" he asked, urging Zref away from his parents,
who were deep in consultation with the Brenilak.
Dropping onto a reading lounge, Zref gulped air and replied, "Nothing, I justтАФI suddenly felt that fragment is going to
be very important."
"A reasonable intuition," said Sudeen, but he was gaz-ing fixedly at the distant display screen, and he sounded
shaken.
Finally, his father broke away and came toward them. Zref felt Sudeen gathering himself as if to meet an attack on his
bhirhir. Rising, Zref motioned Sudeen to stay seated. "Let me handle this one."
He intercepted his father a few steps beyond Sudeen, aware for the first time in years that his parents weren't fully
immune to Sudeen. "Dad, I've got something to show you," he said, producing the scholarship from Rhobank.
Barinn Ortenau scanned the worn document with a light growing in his eyes. "This is wonderful! Your mother will be
so proud of you! But, Zref, all the way to Rhobank? Break up the family. . . ."
"Dad, they're only offering funding for a single person."
Barinn's eyes flicked to Sudeen, who was perched tensely on the edge of his chair. "I see."
"It's even worse. Sudeen was second in the competition. If I decline, they'll offer it to him, and we'll still have the same
problem!"
His father's eyes focused again on the form. "Tell me truthfully, Zref, do you want to go?"
"I'll tell you how badly IтАФwe both want to go. All sea-son we've been working as tour guides to raise the money."
Barinn glanced at the Brenilak as if he now understood how they had all arrived together.
"The license costs almost as much as a starhopper ticket," added Zref, "so we decided to freelance. We put on a good
show for the tourists, and we never used the Ortenau name."
Very seriously, his father asked, "Were you good guides?"
"Yes."
"How much have you earned?"
"About half the passage money."
"Then you've done well by the Ortenau name. Now, why don't you two go and wash up for dinner. Meanwhile, I'll talk
to your mother, and we'll see what can be done."
His parents' room was just as he remembered it, though smaller somehow. Beyond the beds, the door was ajar to the
bathing pool. It looked so inviting after the long sweaty day, he expected to have to race Sudeen to the water.
But the kren had halted in the middle of the floor, staring through the patio doors into the garden's lush sum-mer
growth. Zref slipped by, stripping as he went, and dove into the pool. He surfaced and grabbed a cleansing mat,