"Alan Dean Foster - Humanx 1 - Midworld" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

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World with no name.

Green it was.

Green and gravid.

It lay supine in a sea of sibilant Jet, a festering
emerald in the universe—ocean. It did not support
life. Rather, on its surface life exploded, erupted, mul-
tiplied, and thrived beyond imagining. From a soil
base so rich it all but lived itself, a verdant magma
spilled forth to inundate the land.

And it was green. Oh, it was a green so bright
it had its own special niche in the spectrum of the
impossible, a green pervasive, an everywhere-all-at-
once, omnipotent green.

World of a chlorophyllous god.

Save for a few pockets of rancid blue, the oceans
themselves were green from a surfeit of drifting plant
life that nearly strangled the waters. The mountains
were green until they blended into green froth; only
at the heights did lichens battle with creeping ice as
on most worlds waves warred with the land. Even
the air had a pale green cast to it, so that looking
through it one would seem to be staring through
lenses cut from purest peridot.

There was no question of the planet's ability to
support life. Rather, it was a question of it's support-
ing too much life, too well.

Even so, in all the life that grew and flew and
fought and died on the most fertile globe in the heav-
ens, there was not a single creature that thought—not
in the manner in which thought is usually and com-
fortably denned.

It must be considered that that which inhabited the
world with no name regarded the universe in a fash-
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ion other than usual ... if anything did so at all.