"Kristine Smith - Kilian 1 - Code Of Conduct" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Kristine)

"тАФEgri niRau Tsecha." Cao looked off to the side and extended her arm.
"Excellency!"

Jani sensed the tension around her as, on the screen, a familiar face came into view.
Familiar not
because of the Genta-like skin tone, the same gold eyes and long, straight nose, but
because of
something deeper, something older. She felt wet cold wind brush her face and
imagined it drier,
hotter. Instead of damp mingled with the acid bitterness of skimmer cells, the sweet
odor of lamptree blooms filled the air. The crowd surrounding her towered above
her, wore flowing overrobes, and
spoke in lilting rises and falls.

Eighteen years ago, in the godly capital of Rauta Sheraa, when we both were
known by the names
we'd been born withтАФ

"Dear-rest fr-riendsтАФ"

тАФI almost got you killed, didn't I, niRau?

"тАФit has been too long."

The recorded audience exploded into applause as the ambassador raised his right
hand above his head
in a subservient greeting. The red stone in his ring of station flashed reflected
daylight like a small
warning light. As the clapping died, Tsecha bowed his head and continued his
speech in High
Vynsharau.

Jani positioned herself so that the crowd blocked the subtitles. She watched
Tsecha's posture and gestures, the sweep and flourish of the highly choreographed
language, and intuited meaning the way
a musician discerned note, tone, and tempo. It had taken her seven years to develop
the skill; pride
and respect for the language prevented her from playing ignorant and covering it up.
The Haarin had noticed her ability soon after she'd arrived in NorthPort. Whenever
their trade council experienced a communications breakdown with the Whalen's
Planet Merchants' Association, they always contacted Cory Sato to help resolve it, a
fact that only helped worsen her relationship with her bosses.

Jani flinched as the woman next to her pointed to the news-screen. "It's so beautiful!
That language. Those gestures. Like a kind of dancing!"

A man in a dockworker's coverall shook his head firmly. "Don't trust them. None of
them, not even
the ones we got here." He gestured in the direction of the Haarin enclave. "Sneaky