"Mike Resnick - Tales Of The Galactic Midway - Alien-Tamer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

looking down into an enormous pool from a narrow overhead ramp. The creatures he
was observing darted around and under a number of small ice floes, surfacing only for
air and to emit an occasional pig-like grunt.
“I came seventy light-years out of my way to look at seals!” he repeated
incredulously.
“That is not a term I understand, sir,” said his guide.
“You don't know what a seal is?” said Monk. “Well now, just stick your head over the
edge of the ramp and look straight down and what you're going to be looking at is a
batch of seals. I had a friend called Denny Taylor who went broke on Earth trying to
put together a seal act. All they can do is balance stuff on their noses and blow a few
notes on a set of horns.” He shook his head in amazement. “Seals, for Christ's sake!”
“I assure you that these animals exist nowhere else in the Community of Worlds,”
said the guide, drawing himself up to his full, if minimal, height.
He was mildly humanoid in structure, though his arms and legs seemed too long for
the rest of him and his face was incapable of expression.
“Friend, the only difference between your seals and mine is that mine bark like dogs
and yours oink like pigs.” Monk turned to the guide. “I told you on the goddamned
radio that I needed something dangerous.”
“Theyare dangerous, sir,” answered the guide. “They are carnivores, they are very
mobile in their natural environment, they are able to withstand extreme cold, they—”
“I'm freezing to death and you're describing seals to me!” said Monk unbelievingly.
“Look, pal, they ain't going to be performing in their natural environment.”
“They are not, sir?”
“Not unless I grow a set of fins or gills.”
“I had rather assumed you would not be entering the water to work with them.”
“Did you also assume that I'm equipped to frolic around in the snow?”
“I doubt it, sir.”
“You figure my audiences are a hell of a lot different from me?”
“I hadn't given it any thought, sir,” came the reply.
“Well, so as not to put any undue stress on your brain, let me tell you that they ain't.
Now, before I freeze my ass off, let's get straight one more time just what it is that I'm
looking for. I need a goddamned land-dwelling carnivore. I need something that won't
fold up its tent and die the second it gets warm out. I need something that won't take
half a day to travel a hundred yards on dry land. I need something that can do more
than balance a ball on its nose. Are you following me?”
“Yes,” replied the guide. “But I must point out that these are the only carnivores on
our planet that fulfill your size requirements.”
“Somehow, I ain't exactly surprised,” said Monk. “Well, I'd better get back to the ship
before I turn into the strangest-looking popsicle you ever saw.”
“I could make a price if you were to buy four or more,” offered the guide.
“You know, I could have sworn you had ears under all that hair.” He stared
disbelievingly at the guide. “Look—if I don't wantone seal, why do you think I
wantfour of them?”
“I thought you might be haggling,” said the guide. “The limited information we have
on Terrans is that they like to drive bargains.”
“Yeah? Well,I don't. And I ain't a Terran; I'm an Alaskan.” He began clambering
down off the ramp. “I don't suppose anyone on this world makes a decent cup of
coffee?”
“Coffee, sir?”
Monk sighed. “Just get me to the ship.”