"Shane Tourtellotte - String of Pearls" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tourtellotte Shane)

stiffened Bunwadde's bristles. "I don't think I'm saying anything bizarre. As a businessman, surely you
know the value of good will."

"I do. My exhibiting it, however, would not achieve what you want."

"Why not? You'd gain the gratitude of a lot of humans, who'd be much more willing--"

"Marcus Parrish, you are a smarter businessman than that. Maybe your trouble with our language is
confusing you." Before Marcus could reply in anger, Bunwadde switched to English. "If I stopped
obtaining exposed intellectual properties, it might gain me something in other areas, though probably not
enough to compensate. But others would fill the space I had left. It only takes one, and you won't
convince all my competitors to stop--any more than you'll convince me."

The next argument didn't come to Marcus. He didn't see one. Defeated, he looked back at the manifest.
"I can only hope your customers on Obrith appreciate human writing."

"They like the video and audio productions more," Bunwadde said. "The writing is a smaller market,
though there are some who enjoy human craft in that."

"Craft? We like to think of it as more creative than that."

"As art?" Bunwadde huffed through his nose. "There's no art in human writing, especially when the
authors try to make art of it."

"Well, I don't--"

Bunwadde reached back with a double-jointed arm for a data pad. "I think I've kept you far too long.
Get started on that manifest. I'll see you at home tonight."

Marcus had preliminary notes ready by evening, and expected Bunwadde to want to see his progress.
He had other plans.

"Marcus plays String of Pearls," Bunwadde told his family at the supper table. "I thought we could all
play a game of it with him tonight."

Milinor looked delighted, and Pesh quite agreeable. "Can someone teach me how to play?" Movedhor
said.
"There's only room for four to play," Milinor told her. "You'll have to stay upstairs with Tropid."

"Mom!"

"Movedhor can help you play, Milinor," Pesh said firmly.

"And you can teach me, too," Movedhor added in the same tone. Milinor sulked.

By the time everyone was downstairs in the living room, Milinor was reconciled to the arrangement, and
was explaining the game to her sister with only the occasional help of her father. Marcus sat opposite the
children, while the adults set up the board.

"Tazpet nulh chomaken. Uredha lustodon?"