"Jack vance - Tschai 2 - Servants of the Wankh" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vance Jack)

"A spaceship?"
"Hardly ... It seems that you persist in your obsession."
Reith laughed. "Call it whatever you like."
"I admit to perplexity," Anacho went on. "The likeliest explanation, and one
which I urge you to accept, is that you are amnesiac, and have subconsciously
fabricated a fable to account for your own existence. Which of course you
fervently believe to be true."
"Reasonable," Reith agreed.
"One or two odd circumstances remain," Anacho continued thoughtfully. "The
remarkable devices you carry: your electronic telescope, your energy-weapon,
other oddments. I cannot identify the workmanship, though it is equivalent to
that of good Dirdir equipment. I suppose it to be home-planet Wankh; am I
correct?"
"As an amnesiac, how would I know?"
Anacho gave a wry chuckle. "And you still intend to go to Cath?"
"Of course. What about you?"
Anacho shrugged. "One place is as good as another, from my point of view. But
I doubt if you realize what awaits you in Cath."
"I know nothing of Cath," said Reith, "other than what I have heard. The
people are apparently civilized."
Anacho gave a patronizing shrug. "They are Yao: a fervent race addicted to
ritual and extravaganza, prone to excesses of temperament. You may find the
intricacies of Cath society difficult to cope with."
Reith frowned. "I hope it won't be necessary. The girl has vouched for her
father's gratitude, which should simplify matters."
"Formally the gratitude will exist. I am sure of this."
"'Formally'? Not actually?"
"The fact that you and the girl have formed an erotic accommodation is of
course a complication."
Reith smiled sourly. "The 'erotic accommodation' has long since run its
course." He looked back toward the deck-house. "Frankly, I don't understand the
girl. She actually seems disturbed by the prospect of returning home."
Anacho peered through the dark. "Are you so naive? Clearly she dreads the
moment when she must sponsor the three of us before the society of Cath. She
would be overjoyed if you sent her home alone."
Reith gave a bitter laugh. "At Pera she sang a different tune. She begged
that we return to Cath."
"Then the possibility was remote. Now she must deal with reality."
"But this is absurdity! Traz is as he is. You are a Dirdirman, for which you
are not to blame-"
"No difficulties in either of these cases," stated the Dirdirman with an
elegant flourish of the fingers. "Our roles are immutable. Your case is
different; and it might be best for all if you sent the girl home on a cog."


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Reith stood looking out over the sea of moonlit treetops. The opinion,
assuming its validity, was far from lucid, and also presented a dilemma. To