"Arthur H. Landis - Camelot 03 - The Magick of Camelot" - читать интересную книгу автора (Landis Arthur H)

THE MAGICK OF CAMELOT
BY ARTHUR H. LANDIS

COPYRIGHT ©, 1981

e-book ver.1.0




"A starship is invincible in war and indestructible to all known phenomena. A starship is also the
Federation's potential bridge to infinity. . . ." So stated the introductory lines, tape EC-16-LK, as
reproduced in the handbook Star-ships of the Galactic Fleet.

Great! Except how, by bloody Hestoor, would it ever explain the Deneb-3 to my Fregisians? It wouldn't,
actually. But no matter. For a Fregisian is first an Alphian, a humanoid from the systems of the binary
stars, Fomalhaut's I and II. And, to use an archaic metaphor, is therefore from a race "with an
unfortunate propensity for advancing from barbarism to barbarism without ever achieving the mellowing
influence of civilization."

Moreover, to a Fregisian's thinking, they needed no explanation; indeed, they could hardly care less. For
they have sorcery and witchcraft. And it works! And so to them the realities of the Deneb were but
parallel manifestations of the vagaries of their own potentials. Moreover, too, they didn't have to
understand a starship. It was enough that I, their born-again "Collin-mythos," as well as their recent hero
and savior in two wars, did.

They were even smugly pleased that it was one of their own, me, who'd apparently conjured up this
marvelous package from which they now viewed the night side of Fregis against the surrounding blazing
aureole of Fomalhaut I. Fomalhaut I's twin sun, Fomalhaut II, was also visible—at about two billion
miles, as was the entire starry void; this, from the parabola of platform within the inner arc of the
De-neb's translucent nose.

Unshaken, even somewhat amused, my "ambassadors" relaxed in the platform's swivels, sipped Terran
and Velas wines and ate their fill of strange fruits and ice cream. A few—and we were a round dozen
altogether—leaned against a gravity rail, nibbled confections and preened their body fur. This last was
pure ostentation, done only when one of the ship's personnel in shorts and see-through tank tops, and
quite obviously devoid of body hair, passed by. On occasion, too, one or the other would wink at me
and offer a jolly quip or mot All in all, they seemed to be enjoying whatever it was they thought was
happening.

They wore a mixed bag of satins, velvets, jacquards, tooled leather and the like, sufficient to dazzle a
Terran peacock. Slashed sleeves and surcoats revealed the silver and gold washed steel of their mail
shirts, which they'd refused to leave at Glagmaron Castle. They were armed too—great-swords and
faldirks—as was I. Indeed, I looked as they did except that my blue-purple eyes (all Fregisian fauna
have blue-purple eyes) were derived of contact lenses, effectively hiding their natural brown. My fur was
black, short, and of a satiny, mink-like texture. It was also of a gene-cultured origin. Coming from a
planet with twice Fregis's mass, I had twice the strength of any of these downright deadly swordsmen.
Moreover, as an added, protective gimmick, I'd been subjected to an imposed neural conditioning prior
to original planetfall which had made me an absolute master of all Fregisian weaponry....
Even the gleaming jewels of my swordbelt were not just jewels, but rather links to certain death-dealing