"Alan Dean Foster - Humanx 6 - The howling stones" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

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A Del Rey(c) Book Published by Ballantine Books Copyright O 1997 by Thranx, Inc.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the
United States by Ballantine Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously
in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.

http://www.randomhouse.com

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 97-92418

ISBN 0-345-40645-1


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Printed in Canada

First Hardcover Edition: January 1997
First Mass Market Edition: January 1998

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Chapter One

People tended to overlook Pulickel Tomochelor in a crowd. It was something he'd grown used to.
He'd always been overlooked: in academia, in sports, at social gatherings. Only a few unusually
perceptive instructors had taken note of his singular abilities. These he'd paid close attention
to, and by cleaving to them, he had been correspondingly raised up.
His accomplishments were never spectacular but always solid, satisfying without standing out. He
was, in short, that most valued of all commodities in both business and government: the reliable
employee without a personal agenda.
And yet there was enough there, determination compensating for lack of brilliance, for him to be
called upon more than once to deal with problems that others could not solve. Where they could not
succeed, Pulickel Tomochelor invariably produced results. From this he took, as was his manner, a
quiet instead of boisterous satisfaction. Not for him a plethora of medals or awards, not for him
applause during multiple personal appearances or the rapt attention of the media. A commendation
in his official record was recognition enough. Nor did he disdain the occasional bonus.
There had been a woman once, too, to offer praise and support. She had moved on, leaving behind a
confusion of memories leavened with vague dissatisfaction. Domesticity was the sole task at which
he had failed; the only matter left inconclusive in his life. It rankled and left him unfulfilled
inside. As with the responsibility, the fault was not entirely his, but it ate at him nonetheless.
He stored it in a far recess of his mind and moved on, concentrating on his work and his career,
which by all accounts were far more successful than any selective component of his personal life.
Keeping busy was part of it. His schedule allowed little time in which to develop a social life,
much less raise a family, and the nature of his work mitigated against longterm relationships. It