"Janet Morris - Silistra 3 - Wind from the Abyss" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morris Janet E)

fingers closed on his throat, around his windpipe; the M'ksakkan's clawing
hand upon his wrist as he ripped out the man's larynx, vocal cords dangling;
then the blood, spurting, and the sound of the adjuster's choking death.
And I saw others he had killed, those who were anxious to try their skills
against a real live Silistran. He had been hesitant to do so, but more
hesitant to face an endless line of their ilk, so he had killed the first
three. Again, his thoughts sank below readable level. The hulions lay quiet,
lashing their tails. The clouds scudded heavy over the sun. A soft, drizzling
rain commenced,
"The dharen is pleased with you," I said.
He sat up, his mind absolutely, inviolate. "What do you want, Carth?" He
stared down at me. I lay perfectly still He made no attempt to read me for his
answer. He merely waited.
"A first impression. You are coming up for assessment," I answered, rising up.
"We want to get some sense of you. Your mental health is now our concern."
He tossed his head, ripping grass from the sward.
"You brought child upon that wellwoman in Dritira," I prodded.
He saw her. In many ways she had reminded him of the Keepress. It had been
passes since he had taken a woman. On M'ksakka there were females, but nothing
he understood to be a woman. He had not couched many of them. And in hide
diet, there were only forereaders. In Dritira, with that woman who reminded
him of the Keepress, he had spent his long-pent sperm. Four times he had used
her, before
WIND FROM THE ABYSS 5
she was more than a receptacle in his sight. And he had abused her, more than
was his custom.
"Get me the forms. I will collect my birth-price," he answered. He did not
want the woman.
"You should take her. We have been considering her. She might yet make a
forereader,"
"Then it is a pity she caught. From inferior sperm can come only inferior
stock."
"Khys has asked me," I said, "to bid you welcome to any of the forereaders we
hold in common at the lake. Spawn from such a union would be doubtless
possessed of talent. The bitterness you hold is out of proportion to the
reality. We all, at one time or another, find there is something we want that
we may not have."
He did not answer me, but rose and went to his hulion. He thought of her as
one thinks of the dead; with acceptance, and then of his life, and what
compromises he had made to keep it. What he let me know, I have no doubt, will
please you. What he did notтАФthat is what concerns me. He allowed me nothing
else for the duration of our return.
His shield, as you will see, is set lower and much farther into his deeper
conscious than any I have encountered. Most of his processing must take place
behind it. Deep-reading him is out of the question. He visualizes barely
enough to verbalize his will. That he is functioning superbly is attested to
by his works. 'That he feels it to his advantage to serve us at present is a
certainty. I worry over what might occur, should he choose, eventually, not to
serve us.
My formal recommendation is for a complete and detailed assessment. Also, I