"Andre Norton - Dipple 2 - Janus" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

knew the scent was fresh. He hoped they were still leashed.
Ashla huddled down, her eyes wide and wild as she watched his every move. But she no longer tried
to scream. If he could only bring Illylle memory to the surface of her mind again!
"Illylle!" Naill did not try to touch her, made no move toward the shaking girl. "You are Illylle of the
Iftin," he said slowly.
Her head shook from side to side, denying that.
"You are Illylle--I am Ayyar," he continued doggedly. "They hunt us--we must go--to the
forest--to Iftcan."
She made a small choking sound and her tongue swept across her lips. Then she lunged past him, to
the side of the pool, hanging over the water and staring down at her reflection there. From mirror to man
she glanced up, down, up. Apparently she was satisfying herself that there was a resemblance between
what she saw in the water and Naill.
"I--am--not--" She choked again, her wailing appeal breaking through her hostility.
"You are Illylle," he responded. "You have been ill, with the fever, and you have had ill dreams."
"This is a dream!" She caught him up.
Naill shook his head. "This is real. That"--he waved a hand southward--"is the dream.
Now--listen!"
The baying reached their ears.
"Hounds!" She identified that sound correctly, glanced apprehensively over her shoulder. "But why?"
"Because we are of the Iftin, of the forest. We must go!"
 Baen Books by Andre Norton
Time Traders
Time Traders II
Warlock
Janus




Judgment on Janus



ONE
THE STUFF OF DREAMS
Here even the sun was cold. Its light hurt the eyes as it glittered on the square, sullen blocks of the
Dipple. Naill Renfro leaned his forehead against the chill surface of the window, trying not to think--not
to remember--to beat down those frightening waves of rage and frustration that brought a choking
sensation into his throat these past few days, a stone heaviness to his chest.
This was the Dipple on the planet of Korwar--the last refuge, or rather prison, for the planetless
flotsam of a space war. Forced from their home worlds by battle plans none of them had had a voice in
framing, they had been herded here years ago. Then, when that war was over, they discovered there was
no return. The homes they could remember were gone--either blasted into uninhabitable cinders through
direct action, or signed away at conference tables so that other settlers now had "sole rights" there. The
Dipple was a place to rot, another kind of death for those planted arbitrarily within its walls. A whole
generation of spiritless children was growing up in it, to which this was the only known way of life.
But for those who could remember . . .
Naill closed his eyes. Limited space, curved walls, the endless throb of vibrating engines driving a
Free Trader along uncharted "roads" of space, exciting glimpses of strange worlds, weird creatures, new
peoples--some alien of mind and body, some resembling the small boy who lurked in the background,