"H. Beam Piper - Naudsonce" - читать интересную книгу автора (Piper H Beam)

Gofredo put a hand on each of their shoulders. "YouтАж stayтАж with us." He pointed around the camp.
"YouтАж stayтАж thisтАж place."

Their faces broke into that funny just-before-tears expression that meant happiness with them. The man
confined his vocal expressions to his odd ghroogh-ghrooghing; the woman twittered joyfully. Gofredo
put a hand on the woman's shoulder, pointed to the man and from him back to her. "Unh?" he inquired.

The woman put a hand on the man's head, then brought it down to within a foot of the ground. She
picked up the imaginary infant and rocked it in her arms, then set it down and grew it up until she had her
hand on the top of the man's head again.

That was good, Mom," Gofredo told her. "Now, you and Sonny come along; we'll issue you equipment
and find you billets." He added, "What in blazes are we going to feed them; Extee Three?"

They gave them replacements for all the things that had been taken away from them. They gave the man a
one-piece suit of Marine combat coveralls; Lillian gave the woman a lavender bathrobe, and Anna
contributed a red scarf. They found them quarters in one end of a store shed, after making sure that there
was nothing they could get at that would hurt them or that they could damage. They gave each of them a
pair of blankets and a pneumatic mattress, which delighted them, although the cots puzzled them at first.

What do you think about feeding them, Bennet?" Meillard asked, when the two Svants had gone to bed
and they were back in the headquarters hut. "You said the food on this planet is safe for Terrans."

"So I did, and it is, but the rule's not reversible. Things we eat might kill them," Fayon said. "Meats will be
especially dangerous. And no caffeine, and no alcohol."

Alcohol won't hurt them," Schallenmacher said. "I saw big jars full of fermenting fruit-mash back of some
of those houses; in about a year, it ought to be fairly good wine. C 2H 3OH is the same on any planet."

Well, we'll get native foodstuffs tomorrow," Meillard said. "We'll have to do that by signs, too," he
regretted.

"Get Mom to help you; she's pretty sharp," Lillian advised. "But I think Sonny's the village half-wit."

Anna de Jong agreed. "Even if we don't understand. Svant psychology, that's evident; he's definitely
subnormal. The way he clings to his mother for guidance is absolutely pathetic. He's a mature adult, but
mentally he's still a little child."

"That may explain it!" Dorver cried. "A mental defective, in a community of telepaths, constantly invading
the minds of others with irrational and disgusting thoughts; no wonder he is rejected and persecuted. And
in a community on this culture level, the mother of an abnormal child is often regarded with superstitious
detestationтАФ

"Yes, of course!" Anna de Jong instantly agreed, and began to go into the villagers' hostility to both
mother and son; both of them were now taking the telepathy hypothesis for granted.

Well, maybe so. He turned to Lillian.

"What did you find out?"