"Mike Resnick - Tales Of The Galactic Midway 03 - The Wild Alien Tamer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

the crate, cursing a blue streak the whole time.
“ What the hell wasthat supposed to be?” demanded Flint, walking around to the door.
“ It wassupposed to be the most vicious carnivore on Belthar III,” said Monk with a laugh. “ Hell, for all I know
it is.”
“ Well, you're the guy who picked it.”
“ I picked it from a holograph that your Corporation buddy Kargennian sent me,” said Monk patiently. “ The
little bastard is exactly as represented, too— except that Kargennian never said what its size was. I thought I
was getting something about four hundred pounds.” He laughed again. “ I've seen bigger beagles.”
“ Wasn't there some kind of spec sheet with the holograph?” asked Flint.
“ I got enough trouble reading English.”
“ You don't seem to have much trouble dictating it,” remarked Flint wryly.
“ The tombstone, right?” Monk put on an angelic face and smiled. “ It ain'tmy fault that your partner hasn't got
a sense of humor.” He turned to one of the robots. “ Take this one back to the ship, and haul the next crate in
here.”
“ My partner's lack of a sense of humor is going to cost you a couple of thousand dollars,” continued Flint.
“ What the hell do I care?” replied Monk. “ There ain't an awful lot to spend it on out here, in case you hadn't
noticed. Now, why don't you stand back— unless you feel a serious need to work the next animal, that is.”
Flint stood away from the door as the second crate was placed inside the cage and Monk released the lock.
Nothing emerged.
“ Antisocial son of a bitch, ain't he?” said Monk.
He walked into the cage and stood in front of the crate. Whatever was inside uttered an ominous growl. “
Well, at least it isn't dead,” remarked Flint.
Monk locked the crate again and told a robot to remove it.
“ Don't you even want to see what you've got?” asked Flint.
Monk shook his head. “ What I've got in there is a mess of trouble. We're returning it.”
“ Without trying to work with it?” demanded Flint.
“ Thaddeus, I've only got twenty-four hours to accept one of these animals or reject it. Any animal that won't
come out of its cage is likely to feel so scared and so trapped that all it's going to do is attack out of fear.
Now, maybe it's a temporary condition and maybe it ain't, but unless you feel like carting around a
twenty-thousand-dollar animal that we may never be able to use, it's my opinion that we ought to return it. I
guarantee that I won't be able to find out in one day's time whether I can work with it or not.”
Flint shrugged. “ You're the trainer.”
“ Damn it, Thaddeus!” said Monk. “ Don't you think Iwant an animal I can work with? I took a lion, a bear, and
two leopards with me when we left Earth. My act is buried on four goddamned worlds that I can't even pick
out in the night sky. We've tried fourteen animals in the last six months. I sent nine back and the Dancer had
to kill the other five. I'd sell my soul for another Simba, or even something like Bruno.”
Flint made no reply, and Monk directed the robot to move the third crate into the ring. When he released the
catch a large grayish animal, wolf-like in appearance but far larger, stalked out. It strode once around the ring,
seemingly unperturbed by its surroundings, walked slowly toward the crate from which it had emerged, and
suddenly screamed and hurled itself directly toward the Dancer. It bounced back off the bars of the cage,
rolled over twice, and then continued walking calmly around and around the ring.
“ Well, he's got possibilities,” said Monk.
“ And an appetite,” added Flint dryly.
“ I like his feet,” said Monk, studying the animal.
“ Oh? Why?”
“ Retractable claws. That means he ought to be able to catch things.”
“ Like animal trainers?” asked Flint.
“ He doesn't need claws to kill a man,” said Monk. “ I wonder what the hell his natural prey is? Must be
something half again as big as a buffalo.”
“ And you're going to play catch with him?”