"Andrew J. Offutt - Spaceways 09 - In Quest of Qalara" - читать интересную книгу автора (Offutt Andrew J)

spacefarers, and fired him, cut lip and newly acquired limp and all. The poor
fellow went back down onplanet, where the only job he could find was out in
Snailslime Gulch. He lived unhappily ever after, or nearly. Kenowa and Dem of
HRalix, meanwhile, had been onboard Coronet all along. HRadem was in Kenowa's
cabin, where he had been spending a lot of time, once again watching an Akima
Mars holomelodrama. The things done to that extraordinarily famous fictional
masochistic secret agent acted as a sexual spur to Dem. Where he came from,
this sort of cruelty was known as "play-with" and "toy-with" and was pretty
standard behavior. The HRal didn't bother denying their love of it, as
Galactics had always done. Tormenting was fun, anybody knew that. It was also
sexy, and soon Dem was responding. Kenowa liked that, and soon the holomeller
was playing to a disinterested audience of two. Neither watched. Dem's people
possessed eight breasts or "breasts"-not much more than nipples, really-and
not all eight of any given HRal, female or otherwise, massed as much as
Kenowa's two. They were not "The Biggest Pair In The Universe" as Akima Mars's
were advertised to be, but Kenowa was amply cushioned and upholstered between
collarbones and waist. She and Dem had long since discovered that her un-HRal
plentirude did not disgust or disturb him, or even put off the felino-man in
the least. As a matter of fact, their effect on Dem was quite the opposite.
The HRal were as fascinated with the exotic and variously erotic as humans. He
was entranced by her breasts and her strange inner coolth, just as she was
both fascinated by and delighted with the extreme warmth of him, beside her
and inside 29 her. The normal body temperature of a HRal was forty degrees,
which was feverishly high to a Galactic. Onscreen, actress Setsuyo Puma as
Akima Mars was once again enduring the shredding from her of her skimpy,
skin-tight clothing by a rapacious badguy captor, who showed his enjoyment in
tourniqueting both her meaty thighs. And leered as he took up his electrowhip
while staring fixedly at what he had just bared: The Biggest Pair In The
Universe. Onbed, the Pongida-anthroprimate Kenowa was not acting. It was she
who made purring noises as her alien lover forgot the movie. Both hands
clamping while he chewed away at her superb superstructure, felinoprimate
HRadem was soon deeply into interracial relations, and Kenowa. The holomeller
played on, to a disinterested audience of two. The sounds of panting and
gasping emanating from the movie joined those from the bed. Captain Jonuta and
HReenee, meanwhile, took a shuttle down. Jonuta, a romantic with a fine sense
of drama, was attired as usual: He wore a piratically long coat of dark red,
flashing up the front with two rows of brassy prass buttons, pale laurel-green
tights, and gleaming boots into which the pants vanished without a trace of
rumple or wrinkle. His stopper, slung at his side, was not disguised. Its
holster trailed two strands of rawhide-imitating equhyde. With them went four
others, as prisoners. They wore pants and nothing else; their boots were in a
duffel-bag on the seat beside Jonuta, who was their captor. Captives, he had
observed, tended not to run so fast or so far, barefoot. The four were
Menekris, captain of Satyagraha until he had attacked the merchantship bearing
HReenee and had been captured by Jonuta-to-the-rescue; and his three surviving
crewmen. Pirates, all. Ex-pirates, now. They had become what Jonuta called
walking cargo. Jonuta was an independent businessman. His business was the
selling and buying of people-which aided both his 30 personal economy and
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