"Foster, Alan Dean - Drowning World" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

the assignment as a kroun that had been crammed into the crook
of a drowning sabelbap tree.

Raindrops slid off his transparent eyelids as he glanced upward.
Not much precipitation today: barely a digit’s worth. Of course, it
had rained very heavily yesterday. Clouds, like individuals, needed
time to replenish themselves. The fact that it rained every day on
most of Fluva seemed to be a source of some amusement to
newly arrived humans. Once they had been stuck on Fluva for
about a season, however, Jemunu-jah had observed, the weather
rapidly ceased to be a source of humor for the bald visitors.

Well, not entirely bald, he corrected himself. A fair number of
humans owned at least a little fur. In that respect they were better
than the Deyzara, who were truly and completely hairless.

With an easy jump, he crossed from one suspended walkway to
another, saving time as he made his way through town. A few
humans could duplicate such acrobatic feats but preferred not to.
One spill into the water below, arms and legs flailing wildly, was
usually enough to prevent them from trying to imitate the inherent
agility of the tall, long-armed Sakuntala. No Deyzara would think of
attempting the comparatively undemanding jump. Human children
could not be prevented from trying it, though. This was allowed,
since the waters beneath the town limits were netted to keep out
p’forana, m’ainiki, and other predators who would delight in making
a meal of any child unlucky enough to tumble into unprotected
waters. That went for Sakuntala children as well as human and
Deyzara, he knew. But when they jumped, Sakuntala youngsters
only rarely missed.

The rain intensified, falling steadily, if not forcefully. Making his way
through the continuous shower, he passed more Deyzara. Like the
humans, the two-trunks wore an assortment of specialized outer
attire intended to keep the rain from making contact with their skin.
To Jemunu-jah this seemed the height of folly. For a Sakuntala, it
was as natural to be wet as dry. As visitors who came and went
from Fluva the humans could be excused for their reticence to
move about naked beneath the rain. But the Deyzara, who had
been living and working on the world of the Big Wet for hundreds
of years, should have adapted better by now. For all the many
generations that had passed, they still displayed a marked aversion
to the unrelenting precipitation, though they had otherwise adapted
well to the climate. The one month out of the year that it did not rain
was their period of celebration and joy. In contrast, it was during
such times that the Sakuntala tended to stay inside their houses,
showering daily and striving to keep moist.

It all seemed very backward to Jemunu-jah, even though he had
viewed numerous vits that showed many worlds where it rained