"Rajnar Vajra - Passing the Arboli Test" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vajra Rajnar)

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 The two collapsed forms vanished, leaving seven knives scattered on the
floor. Tina and I stared at each other with expressions closer to shock than
triumph. The tiles underfoot were carpeted with our blood.
"Damn it," I muttered. "This cut is really starting to sting. Yours
looks even worse."
"It's nothing compared to being ignored."
Confused, I stared at the woman. "Do you get ignored a lot?"
"I'd say so."
"Oh. Well, thanks." Now I was even more confused. "I mean thanks for
saving my life." I'd never had occasion to say those words before. I felt very
strange. Detached.
Tina smiled. "The way I look at it, we're even. You saved _my_ life.
Good thing we were both here!"
"Yeah. You know, I figured all along that we weren't in real danger --
I still can't believe what just happened. What the hell are the Tree-people
doing?"
Before she could respond, an Arboli, probably my breakfast buddy,
appeared at the bathroom door toting a large bowl overflowing with something
dark green and mossy. The alien had a talk-branch strapped to its trunk along
with a Nikon flat-camera. Our host stopped in the doorway and snapped a few
pictures of the bathroom floor.
"You have both passed your first test," Water-Holder creaked. "This is
a good sign. Allow me to heal your small hurts. Please remove your upper torso
coverings."
"What," I demanded in fright, "is _that_?"
A creature suggesting the upper half of a starving Tree-person was
entering the bathroom. It might have been some horrid hybrid, half plant and
half tarantula, and crept around on branches bent into spider-leg shapes.
Water-Holder swayed in place. "Is cleaning bush. Organic mechanism. No
danger to vital tissues."
I shook my head, unconvinced, but removed my ruined shirt -- no longer
the pristine white it had been three minutes earlier. Next to me, Tina was
taking off her blouse and the black tank-top underneath. She'd turned away
from me and I found myself staring at her bare, pleasantly freckled back.
The Arboli reached into the mossy substance with several manipulative
branches at once and spread them gently on our wounds, which brought instant
relief. Meanwhile, with other branches, it grabbed our torn and soiled
clothing and passed them on to the cleaning device.
I felt a feather touch on my bare shoulder and looked down. Then I
stared. The cleaner's upper appendages were equipped with tiny tongues. They
were busy lapping away the blood and moss from my skin. As the mess vanished,
healthy pink tissue was revealed with the faintest scar. When the "cleaning
bush" went to work on my trousers, which I hadn't removed, I thought of a sign
I'd once noticed: "Pants Good As New While U Wait." The damn thing even washed
and polished my shoes....