"E. C. Tubb - Dumarest 28 - Melome" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tubb E. C)

One which filled the universe.

Dumarest had known the Ghenka-art which took vocal sound
and used it to gain a hypnotic compulsion in which the mind
was opened to flower in a profusion of mental images. He had
heard the song of a living jewel and would never forget the
awesome tonal effects of Gath. But this diminished them all.

A songтАФno, a dirgeтАФno, a paenтАФno, a threnody, a lilting
cadence, a sobbing, sighing, heart-wrenching murmur which
created sympathetic vibrations from the thin strands so that
they, too, sang in metallic harmony. A quivering which seemed
to cloud the air and mask the slender figure in writhing strands
of light and darkness. A chiaroscuro which blurred and changed
to become a face snarling in anger.

One Dumarest had seen before.

It swelled to fill his vision, small details becoming plain; the
eyes with their yellow tinge, the thinned, cracked lips, the
nostrils rimmed with mucous, the ears tufted with hair. The face
of a man who intended to kill.

One without a name on a world far distant in a time long
forgotten, but Dumarest felt again the shock he had known then;
the sudden realization that he had been duped and what he'd
thought was a practice bout was the stage for his public
butchery.

The shock and the terror. The fear and pain as edged steel cut
a channel across his torso and sent blood to stain the floor of the
ring. The lights, the weight of his own blade, the ring of avid
faces but, above all, the terror of being maimed, crippled,
blinded, turned into a mewling, helpless thing.

The face promised it all, the man, the knife he held, the
profession he was in. A trained and savage killer amusing
himself with an inexperienced boy. One who had no choice but
to learn fast.

To move, to dodge and weave, to cut and slash and rip and
stab and to find speed and use it. To be fastтАж fastтАж fastтАж

But the terror remained and would always remain if only as a
whispering echo in the dim regions of his psyche. A weakness
which strengthened his iron determination to survive.

He blinked, aware of the spool in his hand, the sweat dewing
his face. To one side a man rocked, wailing, tears falling over his
cheeks. Another shuddered, quivering. A woman appealed to