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

dead and buried him in a shallow layer of rubble in the same way he had covered
Father Gareth's grave yesterday.

He had a marble-sized knot on the back of his head and was scraped from head to
toe. His left arm ached fiercely where the khe's bite had broken the skin. He
bent forward and rested his throbbing forehead against his knees, seeking the
strength to get up and go inside the rectory before the khe came back and
finished the job.

He had been so stupid, losing control and frightening them. His cheeks burned as
he remembered how Father Gareth had been the very soul of patience and
understanding with these primitive creatures. Now they would never listen to
him. He would never lead them to God.

At dusk, the khe gathered outside the rectory, whistling in a low chorus that
harmonized in a minor key. His heart pounded as he cracked the door. Above the
mountains, the gathering night was a deep purple contrasting with paler mauve in
the west. A mass of black bodies waited, more than had come that morning, more
than he had ever seen at the same time since he and Father Gareth had arrived,
possibly the entire khe population of the valley.

A large beast stepped forward, its body alive with iridescent photobiotic fire,
its simmering green eyes focused on his face. "One comes back from under rocks."

He pocketed the stunner before opening the door further and easing down the
steps. The temperature had already dropped below freezing and his breath plumed
white in the growing dimness. He smelled the dank muskiness of their bodies.
"You cover one with rocks, but this one not dead."

"Tall one comes back!" it insisted shrilly.

Several khe filtered through the assembled ranks and dropped small gray lumps in
the silvery moss at his feet. Without taking his eyes off the khe, he bent his
knees and fumbled for one of the lumps. His fingers closed around a small furry
beast, punctured by khe tooth-marks, still faintly writhing. Warm blood seeped
over his hand.

He shuddered and held it out. "What is this for?"

The large khe nosed the animal in his hand. "Eat, then one makes light."

So they had brought him food, probably a good sign. He stroked the tiny
rodent-like creature's silken fur, regretting its pain. Perhaps the khe were
sorry too for hurting him earlier. Perhaps they did have the capacity for a
conscience, a potential for recognizing and avoiding sin.
"Wait." He ducked back inside and laid the suffering creature on Father Gareth's
cot. He put on his coat, then took the cold-lantern outside and set it on the
ground, the white bulb cutting through the darkness like a beacon. The khe
whistled softly and surged forward, neckfrills raised as though it were full
daylight.