"Andrew J. Offutt - Spaceways 02 - Corundums Woman" - читать интересную книгу автора (Offutt Andrew J)

he repeated. "Perhaps. How can one be sure? Corundum likes the work. It is
intensely sensuous, to a definite male who definitely loves definite females,
I may be a bit in love with her." A pirate! "And with this one's-posterior and
legs." Almost she touched the full firm-looking backside of the blond in the
other painting. "And yours, Milady Janja." She poked it back a little and
wiggled it, just a little, 38 but he was not that close behind her, and
chose not to respond. I hope I am not expected to twine too-tight metal
jewelry about my arms and legs, she mused. "You are not understandable,
Corundum." "Perhaps my name should be Conundrum? Of course I, am not, Milady
Janja. Corundum, is unique, and no one-sided fictional creation. Corundum is a
mix. We would not accept many of the people we know personally, if they were
characters in fiction, because they are too many-faceted. Corundum is many
things and belongs only to Corundum." "Sapphire, and ruby, and emery." "Yes.
Though none of those has the softness of estheticism that you know is in
me." Yes, she did. A pirate! "And Corundum answers . .. does he answer only to
himself?" "He does." "Oh," said willful Janja who had been enslaved and
bloodily freed herself, "I do like that!" He was close behind her as she
examined another painting, a long one. "Hmm. Is this on old Home-world, too?
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html



All in blues and those weird greens?" "No." His voice was even more quiet as
he looked over her shoulder at the landscape she regarded. "No. That is a
scene on a small planet named Meccah, and it was painted only thirteen years
ago." "It is lovely. Why is it so-flat?" He chuckled. "It is a painting,
Milady Janja. That is the original. A painting. Hand and oils on canvas. No
computer, no laser. It is not a hologram or a holo-projection. Its depth is
its own; the artist's." "It is beautiful and I would like to be there." Janja
was staring at it and into it. It bore no title and was signed with the single
word or name "al-Addin." "Now?" "No," Janja said, and put back a hand to touch
the man in black. "Not quite now. It is lovely and inviting and yet it makes
me . . . uncomfortable. Doesn't it you?" 39 "In a way. Only in a way." He
was close behind her and his hands came onto her hips. "Meccah," she murmured,
not handling the little growl-sound well at all. "Do you think it has changed
a great deal, in thirteen years?" "I know that it has changed, but very
little," he said, only just loudly enough to be heard. "And that area has
changed even less." "You know that." "Yes. I own that land. It is Corundum's
land. Corundum will not allow it to be changed. The mineral rights under it
might be enough to buy everyone on Meccah. They are not for sale." "Everyone
on Meccah?" "No. The mineral rights. Many are for sale on Meccah, and
everywhere else along the spaceways." "Oh. Mineral . . . oh." She did not have
their language completely, yet. She had many words and phrases yet to learn.
"Valuable things in the ground. Platinum? Oil? Gold?" "No. Corundum." "Oh!
Rubies and sapphires. And emery." "Yes. Corundum." "And it is yours and you
will not sell it," she said in delight, standing in his cabin with him behind
her, his hands on her, only three days-standard after their violent meeting in
the Parallax Lounge on Franji. "Pos," he said; the standard word of assent and
agreement. "Now I know that you are sentimental and probably I know where you
are from. You bought the picture from the artist itself? You know it, the