"Dave Wolverton - Siren Song at Midnight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wolverton Dave)

that they call my father a тАЬtraitor to hisspecies.тАЭ He loved every species. Perhaps he loved them
too much. As Irecord these words I am sitting in my terrarium at El Institute Paleobiol├│gico de
ColombiaтАФthe institute my father fundedтАФfeeding my petEuparkeriafrom a bag of eggs. The
Euparkeriaare a small dinosaur fromthe Early Mesozoic, the earliest age of dinosaurs, and they are
a branchof thecodonts. the first true dinosaurs. They are the size of geese, withlong graceful necks
as delicate as a pianistтАЩs fingers, tiny front legs, andforest-green skin. On their backs are
yellow-white speckles, the color thatthe primeval sun must have cast as it burned through fern
jungles. One Euparkerialicks at an egg with a long olive-green tongue, cleaning theegg yolk from
inside a shell, looking for all the world like a small, wingless dragon .

My father used to say thatEuparkeriaare an important link in thechain of life. From them sprang
many species-birds and pterosaurs,meat-eating carnosaurs, saurischian dinosaurs like the
Brontosaurusand Supersaurus,and ornithischians, such as the Triceratopsand Ankylosaurtus.If each
higher animal species were a branch on a tree, the Euparkeriawould be close to the treeтАЩs root.
They are one great maintrunk from which higher animals evolved, while at the top of the
treewould be an insignificant twig, a bud without fruit: mankind .

My father was not a traitor to our species. He only realized that welook on ourselves and think
that instead of a twig, we are the whole tree,that we are the crown of creation instead of only
another stem.

Anyway, my father was a military prisoner, and despite my pleas I was forbidden to speak to him before
the trial.

My friends disappeared, pretended not to know me. Even Rosalinda, a girl IтАЩve known since childhood,
closed the door when I tried to speak to her. She shouted at me through the door, told me to go away,
and she was crying, saying that the secret police had come to question her. At first I was angry and hurt,
but her family had no political connections, and I knew it was better to keep my distance from her.

I accomplished nothing at work, did not eat. I could not ignore the instinct that drove me to believe in my
fatherтАЩs innocence. IтАЩd spoken to him at least three times a week for yearsтАФknew him better than
anyone, and I knew he was incapable of murder. I searched his office, looking for proof of his innocence.
His appointment books were gone, and only his computer logs were on-line. I sat late into the night,
reading notes about the various genomes of extinct fishes, trying to extract some clue to prove his
innocence.

I imagined that my father had been lured into this. Could it have been that he thought he was giving food
to the Sirens? I wondered. That would be like him. He could have handed out boxes, unaware that
weapons were stored in them, and now that heтАЩd been caught, he would nobly protect the others with his
life, even though they betrayed him.

I so wanted this scenario to be true that I looked for evidence to support it. I read until my eyes burned
from viewing every computer log, until perspiration trickled down my back. Late that night, an orderly
came to the office, Mavro Hidalgo, an old man who had worked for my father since before I was born.

тАЬJosephina, what are you doing here?тАЭ he asked.

тАЬLooking for something,тАЭ I said. тАЬI donтАЩt know whatтАФanything to prove my fatherтАЩs innocence.тАЭ

Senor Hidalgo shook his head sadly. тАЬIтАЩve already been through all those records,тАЭ he said. тАЬIтАЩve already