"Anderson, Poul - 1970 Flandry 09 - A Circus of Hells" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anderson Poul)

They resembled especially large men … somewhat. A number of their
faces might have been called good-looking in a craggy fashion; their
hands each had four fingers and a thumb; the proportions and
articulations of most body parts were fairly anthropoid. But the posture
was forward-leaning, balanced by a heavy tail. The feet, revealed by
sandals, were splayed, webbed, and clawed. The skin was hairless and
looked faintly scaled; depending on sub-species, its color ranged from
the pale green which was commonest through golden brown to ebony. The
head had two convoluted bony orifices where man's has external ears. A
ridge of serrations ran from its top, down the spine to the end of the
tail.

Most of this anatomy was concealed by their uniforms: baggy tunic, snug
breeches, black with silver trim and insignia. The latter showed family
connections and status as well as rank and service. The Merseians had
politely disarmed themselves, in that none carried a pistol at his wide
belt; the Terrans, in turn, had refrained from asking them to remove
their great knuckleduster-handled war knives.

It wasn't the differences between them and men that caused trouble,
Flandry knew. It was the similarities--in planets of origin and thus in
planets desired; in the energy of warm-blooded animals, the instincts of
ancestors who hunted, the legacies of pride and war--

"Afal Ymen, may I present Lieutenant Flandry," Abdullah intoned. The
young man bowed to the huge form, whose owner corresponded approximately
to a commander, and received a nod of the ridged and shining pate. He
proceeded, exchanging names and bows with every subordinate Merseian and
wondering, as they doubtless did too, when the farce would end and the
drinking begin.

"Lieutenant Flandry."

"Mei Tachwyr."

They stopped, and stared, and both mouths fell open.

Flandry recovered first, perhaps because he became aware that he was
holding up the parade. "Uh, this is a, uh, pleasant surprise," he
stammered in Anglic. More of his wits returned. He made a formal Eriau
salutation: "Greeting and good fortune to you, Tachwyr of the Vach
Rueth."

"And … may you be in health and strength, Dominic Flandry … of
Terra," the Merseian replied.

For another moment their eyes clashed, black against gray, before the
man continued down the line.

After a while he got over his astonishment. Albeit unexpected, the