"Norton, Andre - Flight in Yiktor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

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; void, cold. Fold in the legs--do not move.
', Cold--pain--the big one was using the prod again--pain.
Stand--jump--but it is cold--so----cold.

The small body edged between the two large woven bas-
I kets uttered a mewing cry. Then one claw hand flew to
╖ provide a gag against any more sound. But shivers continued
| to shake the too thin body.

Cold--where is cold--where is pain?

^ The curled body jerked as if a tormenting lash had been
i applied to the wrinkled greenish skin only too visible through
'. the tatters which were not true clothing. No one had shouted
' those words. Yet they had come as clear and loud as if
Russtif his ugly self were standing over the hider. In the
head--not in the ear. Talking in the head!
^ The small one tried to wedge even more out of sight, and
; now the shudders of fear were worse.
; Where is cold? Where is pain?

The demand came again, imperative--to be obeyed.
Wrinkled hands covered ears, but that did not keep the ques-
tions from opening like dry and curled leaves under the touch

1

2 . Andre Norton

of water--an opening in the head. Once more the body

jerked--

Pain--Russtif was using the prod on the other side of the

tent wall, using it with the skill of a trained showman to stir
up a sulky or frightened beast. And, like the words out of the
air, the pain reached the lurker with a hot burst that brought a
second whimper.

"Here!"
There were legs beyond the crack where the small one

crouched--two pairs of them in space boots.