"Ann Maxwell - The Jaws of Menx" - читать интересную книгу автора (Maxwell Ann)

had not left him since the moment Meriel had begun his education into the demanding intricacies of psi.
Six Centrex weeks had passed since then, or 5.24 Siolan, but he was on Menx now, and must think in
Menx terms. Nearly seven weeks, then. Seven weeks of neuro-learning and intense mental gymnastics to
utilize the psi potential he had inherited from a mother he had never seen.
At least, he assumed it was his motherтАЩs legacy, for his father had lacked even the low-level empathy
common to most races of men. And Cezine ... who knew what Cezine might or might not have become if
he had survived Menx?
Deliberately, Rhane turned his mind away from the unhealed wounds of the past. But it was not as
easy on Menx as it had been on Siol. In RhaneтАЩs mind Menx and Cezine were inextricably mixed,
murderer and murdered.
Rhane forced himself to look ahead to the place where the Mountains of Light leaped out of the
twilight, their peaks fiery with a day that had long since fled the plains. With a weariness only partly due
to the strain of adjusting to an alien planet, Rhane pressed the flyerтАЩs yellow go-bar.
The machine shifted from hover into forward motion with a thin whine. The change in the engineтАЩs
sound told Rhane that the flyer was approaching the end of its range. On Menx, city technology did not
function beyond a certain altitude. Menx gods did not welcome those who came riding on machines.
Rhane chewed on a handful of nuts native to a world that was light-centuries distant from Menx. The
nuts contained nourishment and a mild stimulant. He needed both. The Concord immunization medicine
had reacted badly with his metabolism, costing him two weeks of acute illness and reducing his margin of
safety to nothing. In sixteen Menx days, the Century of Protection would be over. Scavengers would
descend. He had to be off-planet before then.
With subtle shifts of his body, Rhane eased muscles that still ached from the aftermath of exotic
fevers. As he did, he cursed MenxтАЩs omnipresent, irrational religion. A quick shuttle flight into the Jaws
and back would have accomplished his goal with a minimum of risk. But he might as well wish that
Cezine were still alive, that there were no death moments to collect.
The Mountains of Light lifted incandescent heads above the horizon. RhaneтАЩs eyes kept returning to
the jagged lines of upthrust rocks. He had seen many planets, many varieties of geography, but the
Mountains of Light called to him as nothing had but SiolтАЩs endless deserts.
The mountains were first to receive light, last to let it go. Such shining isolation seemed to require a
presence greater than that of mere man. Add to that the violent weather shifts created by the mountains
themselves, and the hallucinations brought on by oxygen deprivation in the high passes, and the result was
the shayl, the mythical living gods of Menx.
That was what the official Concord survey had concluded after First and Second Contact, but Rhane
could not help remembering the first time he had looked at the mountains eight years ago. He had felt as
though they returned his scrutiny, if not his admiration. Even now he felt irritable, ill at ease, as though the
mountains watched him. It was an absurd thought, mingled somehow with the knowledge that CezineтАЩs
ashes had been blown throughout the ramparts by restless alien winds.
The whine of a warning signal dragged Rhane out of the unfinished past. A quick glance at the control
grid showed him that he had only a few minutes before the flyer would reach its final stop high in the
foothill forest.
Reflexively, Rhane glanced over his shoulder once more. He saw nothing unexpected. He silently
cursed the flyerтАЩs unsophisticated scanning equipment and his own inexperienced psi. With a final,
unconvinced glance over his shoulder, Rhane settled himself for the landing.
Like every other aspect of the flyer, the landing process was automatic and relatively primitive. The
ground skids touched with a jolt that made Rhane appreciate the safety harness that he wore. He
unstrapped quickly, collected his backpack and stepped down the scarred plastic ramp that the flyer had
extruded on landing.
The air was cool and light, revitalizing after the dense wet heat of the lowlands. Rhane stretched,
restoring suppleness to his body after the long flight. Though he appeared to be fully relaxed, his eyes
surveyed the nearby land with the cold attention of one who intends to survive the ambushes of