"Alan Dean Foster - Flinx 16 - Snakes Eyes" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

Ordinarily the big dorsal-finned beast of burden would have pounded this menace into the sand. But the
dryzam was so weak from hunger that it could barely stand, and this dark gleaner of the dry sands
instinctively sensed the larger creature's helplessness. Once it was finished with the dryzam, the spotted
killer would undoubtedly have Yakus for dessert. As rare as substantial prey probably was hereabouts, the
prospector was convinced the dryzam would not be enough to satisfy this monster.

Turning to confront the smaller beast now stalking it, the dryzam lowered its head and tooted a feeble
warning. Yakus was sure the temporary revitalizing effect of the water would dissipate quickly under the
demands of combat.

While the carnivore's attention was focused on the dryzam, Yakus backed deeper into the pond and
hunted for the largest rock he could lift. Maybe while the hunter was occupied with his beast, Yakus could
sneak up behind and crush the thick black skull. It seemed to be his only chance.

He located a good-size boulder. The dark predator continued to circle the dryzam, tiring it, worrying it.
Sheer exhaustion would finish the dryzam's chances before a single blow could be exchanged.

Struggling with the large stone, Yakus discovered that his own reserves of energy were unequal to the
task. He might lift it, but he could never carry it and strike with it. The predator yawned, displaying double
rows of pointed, curved-back teeth. Yakus groaned at his own stupidity. A water hole! Where better for a
lone hunter to make its den? He should have anticipated such a possibility and prepared for it.

Then suddenly something thin and winged darted between the dryzam and the hexapod closing in. It


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 Foster, Alan Dean - Commonwealth 16 - Flinx - Snakes Eyes (SS) (v1.0)

spat, a thin sound in the dry desert air. The hexapod halted, blinked—then screamed.

Yakus half swam, half ran in his attempts to stay out of the predator's path as it tumbled over and over,
clawing at its eyes where the corrosive venom had struck. In doing so, the creature sped the poison into its
own bloodstream.

Kicking convulsively, the beast sprawled into the pool. One clawed hind leg barely missed the
retreating prospector. Then it scrabbled clear of the water, crawled a few meters, and lay twitching on its
belly. The twitches grew fewer and fainter, but several minutes passed before they ceased altogether.

As Yakus watched, the minidrag settled itself on a nearby wind-scoured boulder and started to preen.
His gaze then traveled to the substantial corpse lying on the sand. Slowly the dryzam wandered over to it.
Several long sniffs apparently satisfied the patient creature. The first bite of tough dark flesh was difficult.
After that the dryzam ate with increasing ease and gusto.

When a quarter of the predator had vanished down the dryzam's gullet and it still showed no ill effects,
a salivating Yakus drew his knife and moved to join in the feast.

After the clouds had turned black and the screened sun had set, Yakus found himself sitting contentedly
against a dry rock next to the pool. He'd felt this good exactly three times previously in his life: when he'd
defeated Jorge Malpaso, the famous null-ball player, at arm wrestling; when he'd escaped from jail on Al-
maggee; and four years ago, when on a dare and a bet he'd shown a certain saucy barmaid on Kansastan