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

would return with two replacements in eighteen months and they would expect to
see figures -- so many baptized, so many converted, so much of the Bible
translated and preached to the khe. If Father Gareth had lived, it might have
all happened. As it was...

He crossed his arms on the keyboard and rested his forehead against them. They
would find Father Gareth dead and his mission dead along with him, no converts,
no church, no alliance with the khe. His eyelids drooped.

"Son, you can't give up," Father Gareth's voice whispered suddenly, but Johannes
lacked the energy to look up. "You have to make them understand."

"But --" Johannes fought to open his leaden eyes. He seemed to feel warm fingers
rest upon his head in benediction.

"Go out among them and minister. Feed my flock."

He started, sat up, blinking, heart pounding. He was alone, of course, the only
light the screen's pale luminescence. Outside, the sun had dipped behind the
mountains, casting the valley into darkness. The unceasing wind howled around
the tiny building. Minister to the khe? He shook his head. They were the most
self-sufficient creatures he had ever known, needing neither garments or
housing, tools with which to cultivate or weapons to hunt. And as for their
spiritual needs, as far as he and Father Gareth had been able to ascertain,
they'd never conceived of God in any form, however primitive. What could
Johannes offer them that they could possibly need?

He pulled on his heavy coat, pocketed the stunner and picked up the freshly
charged cold-lantern. He had seldom gone out at night himself, but he knew that,
after dark, the khe sought out small depressions of rock and huddled together in
a half-conscious torpor caused by ebbing energy levels which made them
vulnerable to nighttime attack.

He stepped out into a singing darkness that was more a shade of deep purple than
black, his ears instantly numbed by the fierce wind. He pulled his hood up and
switched on the lantern. Overhead, the stars continued ,their slow eternal
dance, dazzling and indifferent. He shivered and picked his way through clumps
of scrubby silver-sage toward the nearest rocky rise that had shown signs of khe
habitation.

The lantern caught a mass of supple black bodies threaded with green fire that
blazed under the intense white light. Hot liquid-jade eyes slitted open.
Johannes's mouth moved, but he suddenly felt ridiculous. What could he say?

Minister to them. Father Gareth whispered inside his head.

He cleared his throat nervously. "Does -- one need anything?"
The black tangle quivered, then a khe separated itself and slunk toward him,
belly pressed to the rock-strewn ground. "Light," it whistled.
"Light-that-moves!" It touched its snout to his boots.