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

I knew how they felt. Dealing with extraterrestrials was a tricky
business at best. Taking an alien test was going to be more than tricky. The
day was still cool, but I was already sweating.
I looked at my watch, stepped through the gateway, and let the gate
swing shut behind me. Not a hint of squeak. Reluctantly, I walked up to the
front door following my own purple shadow cast by the bizarre lamp behind me.
My shadow and I both had the jitters.
Tree House was a vine-shrouded, Spanish-style three story mansion with
a Spanish tile roof modified for the Arboli's special needs. As instructed, I
didn't bother to knock but just opened the solid redwood door and stepped
inside.
The smell was thick, but not unpleasant -- an old forest in a warm
mist. The air was steamy and a very tall figure was standing patiently at the
end of a long hallway.
I'd been told to expect a Tree-person to be waiting for me, but I
hadn't expected to step onto soft paper that crushed under my feet. I froze in
place.
"Do not hesitate," Dr. Carter," came a wheezy voice from a
_talk_-_branch_, an organic Arboli translator affixed to the high ceiling. "Do
not fear to erode track-carpet."
I shrugged and stepped gingerly across the paper to get my first close
look at a living Arboli.
The thing looked just like the pictures: ten feet high, brown, wrinkled
skin glistening with varicolored sap. Dozens of branching tentacles like
tree-limbs. Long, mobile roots for legs and clusters of knots that served as
eyes, ears, noses, and God-knows-what. The "speaking" mouth -- a long opening
in the trunk filled with semi-flexible strips of cellulose -- constantly
creaked and squeaked like my old sailboat.
Nothing unexpected. So why was I shaking?
I tried to invent something to say, but the Arboli stepped past me
without another word. The alien lowered itself by splaying out its roots and
reached down to gingerly roll up the paper mat I'd walked across.
"We will examine with precision. We promise you a full report.
Water-Holder I am."
Figured. They were going to look for portents in my tracks. Suddenly, I
felt more relaxed. These guys were nuts -- hell, they probably _grew_ nuts.
Why should I be afraid of them?"
Half the Tree-people on Earth called themselves "Water-Holder" or
"Water-Carrier." The other half gestured two wavy lines: the astrological sign
for Aquarius. It amounted to the same thing. The real Arboli names were
unpronounceable without a severe case of arthritis.
"I'm here to take your test," I said with all the calmness I could
muster. I'd overcompensated, sounding arrogant. Big deal, I thought, they
wouldn't know.
"Assh! You sound sure of self! Test will commence after breakfast. Come
with this self."
Confidence shaken, I numbly followed the Tree-person.
I was led into a dining room with a polished teak floor and a long
glass-topped dining table beneath a crystal-dangling chandelier. An elegant
room. Another talk-branch rested on the etched-glass tabletop. A single place