"Charles R Tanner - Tumithak Of The Towers Of Fire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tanner Charles R)

the others, however, the look of nobility on his face had not yet been erased by
the knowledge of his servitude.
His mind was dwelling on the events of the past as he worked, and on the
probabilities of the present. All of his life he had dwelled with the fear of
the shelks upon him, for ever and anon, as long as the records of his tribe told
of, the shelks had made periodic raids on his pit and carried off living
prisoners to some unknown destiny. He and his people had always looked upon
these raids as inevitable, and had come to accept them as part of the scheme of
things. When it came Otaro's turn, there had been a fight. Yet the end was the
same--when the battle was over, a living but unconscious Otaro had been picked
up by the shelks and taken from his pit, to live and learn what the shelks
required of living Krayling prisoners.
He was wondering now what might be going on back in the pit of the Kraylings.
Had his brother Mutassa acceded to the chieftainship? If so, he might almost be
content, for Mutassa would certainly make a great chief. But there was one
Koudok--
Otaro gasped suddenly, his hand half raised to his mouth in an uncontrollable
gesture of surprise. Then, instantly, a mask of immobility had swept across his
face and he turned to face his machine again. But his heart was pounding, and
ever and anon he stole a look, out of the corner of his eye, at the doorway high
up at the top of the stairs.
For a man had appeared there, and Otaro had been looking straight at the doorway
when he appeared. The man had withdrawn immediately, but not before Otaro had
seen him plainly. Never had Otaro seen such a man--indeed, it was only in the
oldest legends of his tribe that such a man had even been told of.
He was a white man, tall and well-built, clad in a loose-sleeved tunic with a
wide-pocketed belt. Around his head was a simple gold band such as the governors
of shelk cities wore, and in his hand was a fire-hose, the weapon of the shelks!
In the legends of the Kraylings were stories of the miztas, mighty men of old
who had once battled with the shelks and ruled over the Kraylings. And legend
said that the miztas had gone away, long ago, promising some day to return and
set free the Kraylings from their fear of the savage beasts that ruled the
Surface!
So Otaro the Krayling bent to his work, trembling a little, and stole glances
out of the corner of his eye at the doorway above.
And presently the man appeared again, stooping, cautious, so that the shelks
would not see him. He moved toward the steps. Behind him another man appeared.
Otaro's heart skipped a beat, for this second man was a mog! And the mog stepped
forward cautiously and spoke softly to the first man. Quite certainly these two
were friends, but what could a mizta, a free man, have in common with a mog?
Otaro had no time to answer this question, however, for just then a third man
appeared, and his identity caused Otaro to lose all control of himself and to
gasp audibly.
He hastily turned the gasp into a cough as one of the shelks raised his head,
and bent to his work more busily than ever. For several moments he dared not
look up again; yet every fibre of his being shrieked with curiosity.
For the third man had been his brother Mutassa, whom he had believed to be back
in the Krayling pit, ruling in his place!
THOUGHTS sped through Otaro's brain like the shadows of dancers about a fire.
Who was this white man, so like the miztas of legend? Why was the mog seemingly