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

circumstance and man.
A wind exhaled out of the dense mure forest, causing a thin stirring of gold leaves. The tall upland
smokegrass around the flyer bent gently, randomly, responding to the wind that played around the edges
of the mure trees. From a nearby grove a wiri called in musical notes. A distant wiri answered softly.
With a rainbow flash of wings, the first wiri flew toward the answer, calling with melodic urgency.
Satisfied that there was no immediate threat, Rhane pulled on his backpack. He had spotted the
overgrown trail that led to ShiyaтАЩs lakeside home. As he walked beneath the golden mure trees, he
wondered if there were any watchers, or if the silence was as empty as it seemed.
Moving quietly, Rhane followed the dim track between trees whose black trunks were wreathed by
amber vines. Soon the trail all but vanished. He began to wonder if Meriel was wrong; it looked as
though no one had been on this path since the long-ago summer when he and Cezine had gone eagerly
toward a meeting with the half-civilized alien child who was their fatherтАЩs guide into the ecological
wonders of the Menx highlands. Rhane had been twenty-three, six years older than Cezine. At the time,
those six years had been an enormous gap separating childhood from adulthood, yet there had been
unusual affection between the half brothers. With his emerging adult perspective, Rhane had sensed that
in a few years the gap between Cezine and himself would shrink to insignificance, a mere blink in life
spans that would stretch across at least six hundred years.
But for Cezine there had been no six maturities of living. He did not survive to measure the miracle of
Concord extender drugs. An unlucky, unlikely event had killed him, a disease that was impervious to the
immunizations Concord had developed from the life forms of several thousand planets. The fact that other
off-worlders and many Menx had also succumbed to that first unexpected epidemic of melting sickness
was no comfort to Rhane. He had not been there to hold his younger brother. He had not been there to
gather CezineтАЩs last cup, his last words, his death.
Only Shiya had been with Cezine, alien Shiya, offspring of Menx, child of the shayl myth. She had
been no older than Cezine. What comfort could she have given to a boy whose life had unfolded into a
universe of withering indifference?
Rhane stumbled over a root and automatically caught himself. Resolutely, he put away thoughts of
Cezine, reserving his attention solely for the overgrown trail. He walked quickly into the mure forest until
it seemed to divide before his long strides and flow by him like a river of gold. He was enclosed in color
and silence, and then he heard alien songs sung by invisible wiris. The songs were extraordinary, haunting,
almost human in their emotion. Like his father, Rhane wondered what kind of evolution could evoke
tragedy from the mouths of animals. Had they sung like this for Cezine? Did they sing for him now?
The path curved and the forest fell away, giving Rhane a sudden view of mist and water. ShiyaтАЩs lake
was twelve strides away. He heard the soft murmur of tiny waves and he remembered the afternoon
Cezine and Shiya had played in the shallows. He had laughed to see their bodies burnished by sun and
water, laughed and then leaped in to join their play. For a time he had shared ShiyaтАЩs alien, quicksilver
world and CezineтАЩs enormous innocence. For a time all their differences had been dissolved in translucent
water.
But the lake of his memories was gone, replaced by todayтАЩs lake, different, older, concealed beneath
a rising pale mist. He could hear no laughter, and sunlight was retreating up the flanks of distant
mountains.
A question bird spoke suddenly, flying from tree to tree, glaring down at Rhane and called repeatedly
in a clear, rising note that demanded the intruderтАЩs identity.
Rhane sensed something, movement or mind or both. A presence. Every reflex screamed danger, but
he turned with apparent casualness, taking care to step into a deep pool of shadow as he moved. He
stared into the forest down his back trail, but saw only attenuating sun and shadow patterns swaying in an
invisible breeze. The air smelled of spice and crushed vine leaves and mist. He sent a careful metal probe
into the forest. He sensed only the certainty that something was there, a certainty that had begun the
moment he had set foot on Menx.
Motionless, Rhane waited by the lakeshore where he had once played. His Concord survival suit and