"Norton, Andre - Solar Queen 03- Voodoo Planet" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

not drink defeat easily!"

"That I also believe," Tau returned quietly. "Be sure, sir, if there is trickery in this man's magic and I can
detect it, the secret shall be yours."

"Let us hope that so it shall be."

Subconsciously, Dane had always associated the practice of magic with darkness and the night. But the
next morning the sun was high and hot when he made one of the party coming down to a second and larger
walled terrace where the Hunters, Trackers, Guards and other followers of the Chief Ranger was assembled
in irregular rows.

There was a low sound which was more a throb in the clear air about them, getting into a man's blood and
pumping in rhythm there. Dane tracked the sound to its source: four large drums standing waist high before
the men who tapped them delicately with the tips of all ten fingers.

The necklaces of claws and teeth about those dusky throats, the kilts of fringed hide, the crossed belts of
brilliantly spotted or striped fur were in contrast to the very efficient and modern side arms each man wore,
to the rest of the equipment sheathed and strapped at their belts.

There was a carved stool for the Chief Ranger, another for Captain Jellico. Dane and Tau settled
themselves on the less comfortable seats of the terrace steps. Those tapping fingers increased their rate of
beat, and the notes of the drums rose from the low murmur of hived bees to the mutter of mountain thunder
still half a range away. A bird called from those inner courts of the palace from which the women never
ventured.

Da--da--da--da . . . Voices took up the thud-thud of the drums, the heads of the squatting men moved in
a slow swing from side to side. Tau's hand closed about Dane's wrist and the younger man looked around,
startled, to see that the medic's eyes were alight, that he was watching the assembly with the alertness of
Sinbad approaching prey.
"Calculate the stowage space in Number One hold!"

That amazing order, delivered in a whisper, shocked Dane into obeying it. Number One hold . . . there
were three divisions now and the stowage was--He became aware that for a small space of time he had
escaped the net being woven by the beat of the drum, the drone of voices, the nodding of heads. He
moistened his lips. So that was how it worked! He had heard Tau speak often enough about self-hypnotism
under such conditions, but this was the first time the meaning of it had been clear.

Two men were shuffling out of nowhere, wearing nothing on their dark bodies but calf-length kilts of tails,
black tails with fluffy white tips, which swayed uniformly in time to their pacing feet. Their heads and
shoulders were masked by beautifully cured and semi-mounted animal heads displaying half-open jaws
with double pairs of curved fangs. The black-and-white striped fur, the sharply pointed ears, were neither
canine nor feline, but a weird combination of the two.

Dane gabbled two trading formulas under his breath and tried to think of the relation of Samantine rock
coinage to galactic credits. Only this time his defenses did not work. From between the two shuffling
dancers padded something on four feet. The canine-feline creature was more than just a head; it was a
loose-limbed, graceful body fully eight feet in length, and the red eyes in the prick-eared head were those
of a confident killer. It walked without restraint, lazily, with arrogance, its white-tufted tail swinging. And
when it reached the mid-point of the terrace, it flung up its head as if to challenge. But words issued from