"David Wingrove - Assimilation(1)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wingrove David)

"I know it's perhaps impolite to ask, Mister Carter, but what exactly is
it you're looking to trade for these items?"
"Knowledge," he said after a moment. "You see, my people are rich in
material ways, but culture... well..."
The Governor nodded several times. "Of course, old chap. We understand.
Wealth... well, that's easily come by. But culture..." And he sat up even
straighter than before, one white-gloved hand patting the front of his
dress jacket. "Ours is an old colony and, though we're on the edge of
things out here, we pride ourselves on the standards we set. Culture. It's
what distinguishes us from the brutes."
There was a murmur of agreement from around the table.
"Why, when we first came to this planet it was little more than a ball of
ash and fused glass. We rebuilt this place. Took its riches and harnessed
them. Made a world of it. And now..." His chest swelled out with pride.
"Well, suffice to say that I think we've done a good job of it. A damnably
good job!"
"Hear, hear!" said Pickering, lifting his cup in a toast.
"Forgive me," Ka-Ta said, setting his cup down beside his stool and
getting to his feet. "If I might..."
The Governor leaned towards him a moment, then, sudden understanding
dawning on him, he nodded. "Why, of course... It's upstairs. The servant
will show you where."
He inclined his head to the two ladies, then turned, leaving the room.
Outside a servant showed him up the stairs, then left him, his mask -н of
abject servitude -н concealing a face no different from his master's.
It was a big, echoing room, the fake copper cistern at the end like one of
the great servomechanisms they had on the long-haul ships. To one side was
a giant bath, almost as wide as it was long, while at the far end of the
white-tiled chamber was the urinal. Ka-Ta stood there a moment, staring
down into it. It was like a long porcelain tomb, the waste hole at the far
end of it enlarged, snaking back down into the floor beneath. He
shuddered, imagining the narrow, snake-like abdomen of the alien pushing
down to fill that long dark tube, then turned away, the taste of the tea
sour in his mouth.
At the door he paused, listening, then went out, moving across the hallway
quickly, quietly. On the far side was a bedroom. He went inside, going
straight to the wardrobe. Yes. If he needed any confirmation of the fact,
here it was. Every shirt, every jacket, was strengthened at the back and
sides; a necessity if they were to restrain the powerful wing cases of the
creatures. He stood there, his decision made. And then he heard a sound.
The flutter of wings. A faint, inhuman mewling.
He went back out into the hallway. To his right, on the far side of the
landing, was a smaller room. He went across and stood there, looking in.
It was a nursery.
Ka-Ta stepped inside, the hairs rising at the back of his neck. There was
a child's wallpaper on the walls -н a light blue paper with a teddy bear
motif. On all sides the floor was littered with toys: with headless dolls
and broken machines. The cot was on the far side of the room, the wooden
bars strangely reassuring, as if they tapped some distant racial memory in
him, yet as he crossed the room he felt fear mount in him.