"Andre Norton - Moon Singer 1 - Moon of Three Rings" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

Griss pointed to it. "What's that?"

"I was told a beast show," I replied.

Living as we do mostly in space, Free Traders might be expected to
have little contact or interest in animals. Long ago all ships carried felines
for the protection of the cargo, since they hunted to rout out any pests
stowing away. For centuries they were inseparable crew members. But
their numbers grew less and less; they did not have as large or as many
litters any more. We had forgotten where that animal had originated, so
fresh stock could not be obtained to renew the breed. There were still a
few at headquarters, highly prized, protected, tended, in hope that the
breed might be reinstated. And we had all tried from time to time to
replace them with various hunters from many worlds. One or two breeds
had promise, but the majority could not adapt to ship life.

Perhaps this desire for companion animals gives us a strong pull
toward alien beasts. I did not know about Griss, but I knew that I must
visit the booth behind the moon globe. And it seemed that I would have no
argument, for he came willingly with me.

From somewhere there was a dull, heavy gong note. The chatter, the
laughter, the singing died down a little, the crowd paying tribute to a
temple call. But the hush did not last, for while the fair had its religious
side, that had faded with the passing of centuries.

We came under the shadow of the pink-gray banner into the halo of the
moon lamp. I had expected some pictures of the animals to be strung up
to entice an audience. But instead there was only a fabric screen bearing
tangles of native scripts, and over the door flap a strange mask emblem,
neither beast nor bird but combining the two. Griss gave a small
exclamation as he looked up at that.

"What is it?"

His eager expression surprised me a little. I had seen such a look before
only when he fronted a new and intricate machine.

"This is a real find."

"Find?" I thought of some piece of trade luck.

"A real sight," he corrected himself as if he knew my thought. "This is a
Thassa show."

Like Captain Foss he had visited Yiktor before. But I could only repeat,
"Thassa?" I believed I had studied the Yiktor tapes with close attention,
but the meaning of this eluded me.

"Come!" Griss pulled me along to where a slender native in a silvery