"Bruce Holland Rogers - Big Far Now" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rogers Bruce Holland)

"Yes. Big people from far away."
"Far far. Longtime."
"Yes, it took us a long time to get here. Mowza, tell us about Sky Mountain."
The Shy sniffed the air. "Sky," he said. "Mountain." He spread his fuzzy arms. "All."
"Sky Mountain is important?"
"Sky. Mountain. All."
"Mowza, why is Sky Mountain important?"
 "Sky Mountain not, Mowza not. Sky Mountain not, light dog not. Sky Mountain not, tree not, fruit
not."
"Everything depends on Sky Mountain?"
The Shy scratched itself. "All."
"O.K.," Joanna said. "Thank you, Mowza."
The Shy tugged at her hand. It was like the gesture of an impatient child, and people laughed again.
Mowza grinned at the sound and hunched his shoulders. Then he said, "Mowza talk now."
"Yes, you did," Joanna said, looking around at us to see what we had made of the presentation.
"Mowza talk now!" Mowza tugged hard at her hand.
"Talk more?" Joanna said.
"Talk now!" The face looked as serious as it could with those round, liquid eyes.
"O.K.," Joanna said. "What else?"
"Sky Mountain not," the Shy said. "Mowza go far far." The Shy curled up at her feet. "Far far," it said
from the floor of the Glass House. Then Mowza stood up. "Pacho close now, close now." He frowned.
He looked at the rest of us like he knew he was having trouble getting his message across. "Big, close
now, close now." Then he put his paws on his chest. "Mowza close now, far now. Mowza close now,
big far now." What was it like, I wondered, inside that fuzzy body? How did things look to him, seeing
through those big, round eyes?
Joanna frowned, and Mowza took her hand again. "Mowza go," he said, and he closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, he looked like a man waking from a nightmare to find the ghosts of his
dream, still standing in his bedroom. He looked at us, then blinked, and I don't think that what I saw in
his face was anything less than terror. Suddenly he was already half-way to the door. He paused for half
a heartbeat in the doorway to look back at Joanna, and then he was gone. The Shy's usual speed
seemed all the more astonishing after we had seen it sitting in the room with us, slowed down to
something like our own pace. It must have indeed been an act of will for the animal to sit so still.
I remember what Joanna had said on the domewood about the two kinds of Shies, the ferals and the
talkers. Now I knew what she was talking about, but I had just seen it in one creature. When he had
been talking, mowza had been like a person. And then, as though someone had thrown a switch, he
turned into a wild animal that was horrified to find itself in an enclosed area with so many strange
creatures. I looked at the people sitting around me. I knew exactly how he felt.
Meeker shifted in his seat. "Interesting little show, Dr. Pacho."
Laughter.
For once, Meeker did seem manipulative to me. He was belittling her before we even knew what this
was about. Joanna rolled with it nicely, though, giving Meeker a curt stage bow.
"And now for the exegesis," Joanna said.
"The what?"
Joanna smiled. "We've just heard a religious promulgation from my friend. Now for the explanation."
She looked around at us. No one was laughing. We all wanted to hear this.
Meeker said, "I thought you had been telling everyone that the Shies hadn't developed to the level of
culture, of social organization."
"They haven't. Not to any degree that we'd recognize as such. Actually, I'm not talking about religion;
I'm talking about protoreligion, about a primitive sense of the sacred." Joanne folded her arms. "Sky
Mountain is sacred to the Shies."