"Jack Vance - Meet Miss Universe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vance Jack)

skin? I must be beautiful! AfterwardsтАФthen you will see!"
"Afterwards," grumbled Tony. "Always afterwards!"
"Tony!" sighed the Veidranu girl, "you frown, you sulk. It is not because
of me?"
Tony sighed. "No. Not alto-gether. I've got to go see that blast-ed Mel
monster, arrange to have her brought down to the Exposi-tion. She's so big
I'll need two air-freighters instead of one . . ."

* * * *

He paused outside of the vivari-um in which Miss Magdalipe, of Mel, made
her residence, and the interpreter, an officious little Breiduscan, humanoid,
thin as a willow whistle, with a voice like a cricket, spied him.
"Ah, Mr. LeGrand, at last you have come. Miss Magdalipe is anx-ious; she is
waiting to see you."
"Just a minute," growled Tony. At last he had found a use for Hardeman
Clydell's cigars: the smoke tended to over-power the Mel atmosphere.
The cigar was alight. Tony coughed, spit. "Okay," he said grimly. "I'm
ready."
The interpreter preceded him into the vivarium. Magdalipe was crouching
with her great thorax to-ward the door. At the first shrill sounds of the
interpreter's speech, she lurched around, and seeing Tony, roared in pleasure.
She pat-ted him, squeezed. Tony's ribs creaked; his feet left the ground. The
great maw bellowed a foot from his ear.
Behind Tony the interpreter translated. "Miss Magdalipe is glad to see you.
She likes you. She says if she wins the contest, she will invite you to her
palace on Mel. She says she is very fond of you; you will enjoy yourself."
"Not bloody likely," thought Tony. He puffed vigorously on his cigar, blew
smoke in her face. If one of Clydell's special cigars fail-ed to daunt her,
nothing could. She gurgled in pleasure, reached out to pat him again, but
missing his back, cuffed the side of his face. And Tony's head rang like a
bell.
V

On the night of January 31, twenty-three air-freighters grappled
twenty-three enormous glass cases in various parts of California, lift-ed them
high, conveyed them across the Mojave Desert to the glinting metal mushroom
crouch-ing on the pale sand. On the morn-ing of February 1, visitors to the
Tri-Centennial Exposition found the Conclave of the Universe ring-ed by
twenty-three show-cases dis-playing the beauty of the universe.
On February 1, paid admission to the Exposition exceeded a mil-lion and a
half.
Judging commenced at four o'clock in the afternoon.
Each judge was required to in-spect each of the contestants sepa-rately,
measure her every dimen-sion, analyze her color, determine her viscosity,
elasticity, density, area, temperature, refractive index, conductivity; then
he must compare all these results with the previous-ly ascertained racial
ideal.
It was slow work. But there was no hurry. Each day the turnstiles clicked a
million times or more. By February 14 all expenses inci-dent to the beauty