"K. D. Wentworth - Tall One" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wentworth K D)

But was mere survival the same as living? Johannes knew now it was not. Despite
the rigorous selection process, they had sent the wrong man. Sheah Four brought
out faults in him that he had never suspected; he was a weak vessel, even base.
Without Father Gareth's experience and gentle guidance, he would never be able
to carry on the Lord's work here.

Behind him, the khe's clawed fingers scritched over the rubble.

He steeled himself, then turned to meet the poisonous green eyes. The beast was
full grown, its head reaching his shoulder as it sat on all fours. "What -- does
one want?" he whistled in the stilted kheish grammar that knew nothing of
personal names and permitted only the present tense.

The khe's muzzle wove from side to side, black tongue flickering like summer
lightning. "Speak of one under rocks."

Johannes blanched. He wanted to say a funeral mass over the grave, speak the
ancient words meant to give comfort to those left behind and find serenity in
the familiar motions in this hellish place so far from home, but he knew what
Father Gareth would have done. He closed his eyes, praying for guidance. He had
tried to communicate with the primitives many times without success. These
creatures had no word for God, no word for affection or love. How could he even
begin to explain that Father Gareth had gone to his Maker?

"Tall one goes to live with its parent," he said in the barbarous whistlespeech.

"Not lives -- dies!" The khe scrabbled forward, snout raised, and curled three
sinuous fingers around his wrist. Its flesh clung to his skin like warm plastic.

Johannes stiffened, his heart racing sickly. He could not bear these creatures
to touch him. Gritting his teeth, he tried to think of some way to explain.
"Tall one walks this earth no more, but -- walks in another place with --
parent." He tried to ease away from its grip, but it held on.

The slitted eyes were glittering wells of emerald. "Another place?"

Did it understand? "Yes."

The black tongue darted out-in. "Where?"

"Place where -- one goes when one dies." In spite of the chill, sweat beaded the
priest's brow. He mopped his forehead with his sleeve.

The khe sidled closer until he could feel its breath on his face, hot and
feathery, musky. "One who dies goes to mountain."

Johannes grimaced. The khe exposed their dead high up on the side of the
mountain where predators and scavengers feasted on the remains, a heathenish,
disgusting custom. "One's body goes to mountain, but one's --" He shuddered as