"Frank Herbert - The Green Brain" - читать интересную книгу автора (Herbert Brian & Frank)

attention to Martinho. 'The Irish share the reluctance of the Canadians and the North
Americans of the United States. The Irish will wait a bit yet.'
The answer appeared to annoy him. 'But ... I mean Ireland surely understands the
advantages,' he said. 'You've no snakes. That must ... '
'That's something God did by the hand of St Patrick,' she said. 'I don't fancy the
bandeirantes as cast in the same mold.' She'd spoken in quick anger and regretted it
immediately.
'I should've warned you, Johnny,' Chen-Lhu said. 'She has an Irish temper.' And he
thought: He's putting on an act for my benefit - devious little man.
'I see,' Martinho said. 'If God didn't see fit to rid us of insects, perhaps we're wrong in
trying to do this for ourselves.'
Rhin glared at him in dismay.
Chen-Lhu suppressed a surge of pure rage. That devious Latin maneuvered Rhin into this
position! Deliberately!
'My government doesn't recognise the existence of God,' Chen-Lhu said. 'Perhaps if God
were to initiate an exchange of embassies ... ' He patted Rhin's arm, noted that she was
trembling. 'However, the I.E.O. believes we'll be extending the fight north of the Rio Grande
Line within ten years.'
'The I.E.O. believes this? Or is it China's belief?'
'Both,' Chen-Lhu said.
'Even if the North Americans object?'
'They are expected to see the light of reason.'
'And the Irish?'
Rhin managed a smile. 'The Irish,' she said, 'have always been notoriously unreasonable.'
She reached for her drink, hesitated as her attention was caught by a white-clad
bandeirante standing across the table - Vierho.
Martinho bounced to his feet, bowed once more to Rhin. 'Doctor Kelly, allow me to
introduce one of my brothers of the Irmandades, Padre Vierho.' He turned back to Rhin.
'This lovely one, my esteemed Padre, is a field director of the I.E.O.'
Vierho gave her a tight little nod, sat down stiffly at the limit of the divan beyond Chen-
Lhu. 'Charmed,' he murmured.
'My Irmandades, they are shy,' Martinho said. He resumed his seat beside Rhin. 'They'd
rather be out killing ants.'
'Johnny, how is your father?' Chen-Lhu asked.
Martinho spoke without looking away from Rhin. 'The affairs of the Mato Grosso keep him
much occupied.' He paused. 'You have lovely eyes.'
Again, Rhin found herself disconcerted by his directness. She picked up the golden bulb of
his drink, said, 'What is this?'
'Ah, that is flierce, the Brazilian mead. Take it for yourself. There are little points of light
in your eyes to match the gold of the drink.'
She suppressed a quick retort, lifted the drink to sip it, genuinely curious. She stopped
with the glass tube almost at her lips as she caught Vierho staring at her hair. 'Is it really
that color?' he asked.
Martinho laughed, a surprised and oddly affectionate sound. 'Ahh, Padre,' he said.
Rhin sipped the drink to cover a feeling of confusion, found the liquid softly sweet, filled
with the memory of many flowers, and with a sharp bite beneath the sugar.
'But is it that color?' Vierho insisted.
Chen-Lhu leaned forward. 'Many Irish colleens have such red hair, Vierho. It's supposed
to signify a wild temper.'
Rhin returned the drink to the table, wondering at her own emotions. She sensed a