"Wolfe, Gene - The Urth Of The New Sun" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wolfe Gene)

that they were confined nonetheless, and for fifty more
before I felt sure of it. But each had its own plot of ground,
small or large, and they could no more mingle than could
the beasts in the Bear Tower. What a strange group they
made! If every swamp and forest on Urth were combed for
oddities, I do not believe such a collection could be
assembled. Some gibbered, some stared, most lay comatose.
I holstered my pistol and called, "_Who howled?_"
That was only a joke made to myself, yet a response
came--a whimper from the rear of the vivarium; I
threaded my way through the beasts, following a narrow
nearly invisible track made, as I soon afterward
learned, by the sailors sent to feed them.
It was the shaggy creature I had helped catch in the cargo
bay, and I beheld him with a certain warmth of recognition.
I had been so much alone since the pinnace had
carried me from the gardens of the House Absolute to this
ship that to meet even so queer a being as he was seemed
the second time almost a reunion with an old acquaintance.
Then too, I was interested in the creature himself, since I
had assisted in his capture. When we had pursued him, he
had appeared almost spherical; now I saw that he was in
fact one of those short-limbed, short-bodied animals that
generally live in burrows--something like a pika, in other
words. There was a round head atop a neck so short that
one had to take it on faith; a round body too, of which the
head seemed a mere continuation; four short legs, each
ending in four long, blunt claws and one short one; a
covering of flattened, brownish-gray hairs. Two bright
black eyes that stared at me.
"Poor thing," I said. "How did you ever get into that
hold?"
He came to the limit of the invisible barrier that
enclosed him, moving much more slowly now that he was
no longer frightened.
"Poor thing," I said again.
He reared upon his hind legs as pikas sometimes do,
forelegs nearly crossed over his white belly. Strands of
black cord still streaked the white fur. They reminded me
that the same cords had stuck to my shirt. I plucked at
what remained of them and found them weak now, some
crumbling under my fingers. The cords on the shaggy
creature seemed to be falling away as well.
He whimpered softly; instinctively, I reached out to
comfort him as I would have an anxious dog, then drew my
hand away, fearful he might bite or claw me.
A moment later, I cursed myself for a coward. He had
harmed no one in the hold, and when I had wrestled with
him, there had been no indication that he was trying to do
more than escape. I thrust a forefinger into the barrier