"Jack Williamson - Brother to Demons, Brother to Gods" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williamson Jack)

The god Belthar had leveled the crown of Pike's Peak for his North American temple. All
black granite, it could hold half a million chanting worshippers. It was empty, however, on that
chill spring morning when a small skimmer marked with the triple triangle of the Thearchy
dropped to a parking terrace on the slope beneath it.
The halfgod Quelf left the skimmer with five attendant sacristans. His mother had been a
dancer who satisfied Belthar. Inheriting her dark grace and his father's towering power, he was
commonly arrogant, but his bold tread faltered as they reached the elevator.
"Leave your boots," he told the blue-robed trumen. "There's a live goddess here."
He had long ago learned the mixture of impudence and flattery that pleased his godly father,
but Zhondra Zhey was a casual transient from remote stellar dominions, a dangerous unknown.
"She's a starship pilot." He bent to set his own boots in the rack. "Visiting Earth while her
ship's in orbit. The Lord has ordered us to serve her."
The sacristans straightened and stared, but shuffled after him into the elevator without
comment. He had taught them silence.
They emerged between great black columns under the rim of the vault, which was a blue-
black star-map, all aglow with shifting lines that showed the space-routes of the explored
multiverse. Heads bent, they marched out across the polished floor, which mirrored all those far
dominions. The central altar was a vast black disk that held the sacred apartments. Kneeling
beneath it, holding up his offering, the halfgod intoned a formal invocation to the goddess.
Before he was done, she appeared at a high window, gestured as if to check him, and stepped
out into the air. Wearing only her aura and the diamond star of her space-pilot's rating, she
dropped to the granite bench before him and floated just above it, anchored to the stone with only
one rosy toe.
"YouтАФ Your Divinity!"
Conflicting impulses shook his voice. Pink and slim beneath her softly iridescent nimbus, the
goddess was still no more than a lovely child, not out of her second century, yet already
overwhelmingly alluring. Fond of young girls, he was used to taking what he wanted. But no
mortal virgin had ever come clothed in her perilous power.
"Favor, Great One!" Torn between lust and terror, he dropped his eyes to the casket of rare
Terran gems he had brought. "Humbly, we implore your gracious acceptance of our insignificant
gift." Sweaty hands quivering, he raised the casket. "Eagerly, we await your all-wise
instructionsтАФ"
"Stand up, Quelf." Her Terran diction was pure, her tone gently chiding. "I want no gifts."
"Forgive us. Your DivinтАФ"
The casket had slipped from his fingers. Her slender hand moved slightly. Flowing from it, her
shimmering nimbus reached out to catch the casket, lifted it over his head and into the hands of a
startled sacristan behind him.
"Save your offering for the premen," she said. "I think they need it more than I do. I've come
to see their reservation. Please arrange it."
 Clumsily, he stood up.
"We obey." His avid eyes were fixed on that tempting toe. "However, if Your Divinity deigns
to tour the holy planet, there are better sights. The Asian Temple, which is Belthar's most sacred
dwelling. His statue on the AndesтАФ"
"I'm going to Redrock."
"Indulgence!"
Her mild tone had given him courage to look up, and her bright-washed beauty stabbed him
with a hotter regret that he had not inherited all his father's privileges and powers. She waited,
aloof, aware, a little amused.
"If Your Divinity cares about the aboriginal life, there's the European Zoo. The Terran
creatures there include a fine preman habitat."