"Foster, Alan Dean - Flinx - Orphan Star" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

knew. The avian clacked its beak back at him and made a gesture with its
graceful, ostrichlike neck, its periscope form weaving confidently through
the crowd.

Nanger paused to buy a thisk cake, and Challis continued his explanation as
they walked on.

"So you see why I need that boy."

Nolly was irritated now. "Why not just hire him? See if he'll participate
willingly?"

Challis looked doubtful. "No, I don't think that would work out,
Nolly-dear. You're familiar with some of my fantasies and likes?" His voice
had turned inhumanly calm and empty. "Would you participate voluntarily?"

Nolly looked away from suddenly frightening pupils. In spite of his
background, he shuddered. "No," he barely whispered, "no, I don't guess
that I would...."

"Hello, lad," boomed Small Symm-the giant was incapable of conversing in
less than a shout. "What of your life and what do you hear from Malaika?"

Flinx sat on one of the stools lined up before the curving bar, ordered
spiced beer for himself and a bowl of pretzels for Pip. The flying snake
slid gracefully from Flinx's shoulder and worked his way into the wooden
bowl of trapezoidal dough. This action was noted by a pair of wide-eyed
unsavory types nearby, who promptly vacated their seats and hastily made
for the rearmost booths.

"I've had no contact with Malaika for quite a while, Symm. I've heard he's
attending to business outsystem."

Flinx's wealthy merchant friend had enabled him to quit performing his
personal sideshow, having provided him with a substantial sum for his aid
in exploring the Tar-Aiym world of the Krang. Much of the money had gone to
set up Flinx's adoptive mother. Mother Mastiff, in a well-stocked shop in
one of Drallar's better market districts. Muttering at her capriciousness,
the old woman had rescued Flinx as a child from the slave-seller's block,
and had raised him. She was the only parent he had ever known. She muttered
still, but with affection.

"As a matter of fact," he went on, sipping at the peppery brew, "Malaika
wanted me to go with him. But while I respect the old hedonist, he'd
eventually get ideas about putting me in a starched suit, slicking my hair
back, and teaching me diction." Flinx shuddered visibly. "I couldn't stand
that. I'd go back to juggling and audience guessing games first. What about
you, father of oafs? I've heard that the municipal troops have been
harassing you again."