"Andre Norton -Moon Singer 3 - Flight in Yiktor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

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; void, cold. Fold in the legs—do not move.
', Cold—pain—the big one was using the prod again—pain.
Stand—jump—but it is cold—so——cold.

The small body edged between the two large woven bas-
I kets uttered a mewing cry. Then one claw hand flew to
• provide a gag against any more sound. But shivers continued
| to shake the too thin body.

Cold—where is cold—where is pain?

^ The curled body jerked as if a tormenting lash had been
i applied to the wrinkled greenish skin only too visible through
'. the tatters which were not true clothing. No one had shouted
' those words. Yet they had come as clear and loud as if
Russtif his ugly self were standing over the hider. In the
head—not in the ear. Talking in the head!
^ The small one tried to wedge even more out of sight, and
; now the shudders of fear were worse.
; Where is cold? Where is pain?

The demand came again, imperative—to be obeyed.
Wrinkled hands covered ears, but that did not keep the ques-
tions from opening like dry and curled leaves under the touch

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2 . Andre Norton

of water—an opening in the head. Once more the body

jerked—

Pain—Russtif was using the prod on the other side of the

tent wall, using it with the skill of a trained showman to stir
up a sulky or frightened beast. And, like the words out of the
air, the pain reached the lurker with a hot burst that brought a
second whimper.

"Here!"
There were legs beyond the crack where the small one

crouched—two pairs of them in space boots.