"Andrew J. Offutt - Spaceways 17 - The Carnadyne Horde" - читать интересную книгу автора (Offutt Andrew J)

without it. -Karl Hess, The Death of Politics A HRal was a rare sight. Unless
one of them wore a mlss or bundled up in a sektent, a felinoprimate was hard
to miss. The two HRal onboard TarasBulba, then, were an Event. And both
HReenee and HRadem revelled in the attention. HReenee and her step-sib HRadem
had shipped out with the rowdy crew of asteroid miners when word of the death
of Kislar Jonuta reached her on Qalara.* She knew that Kenowa would never
permit her back onboard Coronet, so the two contracted out on the first
available spacer. She had been badly shaken. Jonuta was a man HReenee both
respected and liked, more than a little. "Yer know," one of the less grimy
miners said to her, smiling, "you look real good in Galactic clothes. I kin
count eight of ya' bitty nipples on ya' eight bitty warheads when yer stretch
like that." HReenee stiffened, then pulled back in from her pan-therish
elongation. Her cerulean reelsilk shirt, cut in an ancient pirate style, slid
in ripples over her long chest. Each nipple showed as a tiny nub atop a small
mound. She ad- *Spaceways #9: In Quest of Qalara 47 48 justed the folds of her
deep purple jurl-loose HRal pants- and resumed her meal. The miner sat next to
her in the mess hall of Taras Bulba. HRadem was at her left, eyeing a busty,
butsy woman in a bright yellow SpraYon body-stocking. He smiled. HRadem had
not spent a night alone in the ship's month he had been on the spacer. Neither
had HReenee. The women her brother trysted with relished his forceful, violent
lovemak-ing. They went positively ecstat over his feverish HRal body
temperature.* HReenee pretended to ignore the miner on her right. She didn't
object to his overtures any more than she would object to an animal's rubbing
against her leg. Just small-man crude-ness, but...interspecies sex intrigued
her, as it intrigued most spacefarers. And Jonuta was gone, gone. Unlike the
majority of Galactics, she didn't require sentience of her partner. This miner
adequately fitted that description, and didn't mean to insult. He was merely
stupid, crude and callous. Merely. HReenee demurred with a sexy flip of her
fingers. The gesture-when performed by a HRal-caused her single, retractile
claw to extrude from her middle finger. The miner quietly turned back to his
meal. He knew as well as anyone else on Taras Bulba that HReenee had made her
choice of cabinmates. And that choice would be respected. She slept in the bed
of Captain Darkblood. She finished eating and leaned back in her chair. Her
eyes-evolved for a hunting race-gazed to survey the crowd. So Intent on their
small concerns. She slid her tray into the disposall and purred something in
the language of HRal to her step-sib, nodding in the direction of the
spacefarer he'd been eyeing. * About 104 degrees Fahrenheit, Old
Style. 49 HRadem smiled slyly and stood to follow the woman in yellow. His
partner for the night was virtually assured. HReenee's partner was assured
absolutely. She headed for the exit, her fluid motions drawing many a miner's
gaze. Those who watched knew her destination. Some resented the captain for
its good fortune. Others resented HReenee for hers. And some tried
lasciviously to imagine their captain with the HRal. HReenee thumbed the hatch
to the captain's cabin. Only her right thumbprint-or any of Captain
Darkblood's four- could actuate the lock. The plasteel barrier slid aside
silently. Her sensitive nostrils detected the almost subliminal odor of
pheromones and other body scents. A tingle of anticipation prickled at her
flesh, raising her fur. She thrilled at the aroma of her lover. It was so...
different. Different from the scent of HRal or Galactic. Captain Darkblood
emitted the pheromones of both a male and a female. "Whhherrrl?" HReenee