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

“ Not this morning,” said Monk with a smile. “ I'm just going to get acquainted with him. Reminds me of a dog
I used to own.”
“ He was bigger than any dog you ever owned the day he was born,” said Flint.
“ My friend the optimist,” muttered Monk. He waited for the animal to reach the far side of the ring, then
quickly walked through the door, holding a small metal chair in one hand and his whip in the other.
“ Hi, Shep,” he said gently.
The animal turned and glared at him, and Monk stood motionless, the chair positioned just ahead of him. The
animal moved to its left, and Monk turned slowly, keeping the chair between them. It stopped again, growled
once, and began walking back to its right. Monk pivoted to face it.
Then, suddenly, it took a single bound toward Monk, stopping about eight feet away as Monk cracked his
whip. Flint shot a quick glance at the Dancer, who now had his pistol out and trained on the animal, then
looked back at Monk, who raised the chair a little higher and took a tentative step forward.
The animal snarled and backed away, and Monk advanced another step.
The animal retreated again, and Monk spent the next five minutes forcing it to move where he wanted it.
Twice the animal charged at him, and twice the sound of the whip made it come to a stop.
“ Tojo!” Monk called.
“ Yes?” said the hunchback, shuffling up to the cage.
“ Go to one of the game booths and bring back a couple of toys. Balls, if you can find them.”
Tojo headed off to the Midway, and Monk continued moving the animal.
After another three minutes he put the chair down and began working it solely by gliding his whip along the
ground.
“ Quick learner,” remarked Flint.
“ While we're waiting for Tojo, have one of the robots bring me a stool,” said Monk. “ One of the ones I used
for the cats.”
Flint issued the order, and a moment later Monk had set the aluminum stool up next to the door. Then he
moved the animal around the ring to where the stool was, and began backing it up until finally, with a sound
that was halfway between a sigh and a snarl, it jumped onto the stool. The crowd around the ring
applauded—
— and the animal went berserk.
It leaped off the stool, knocking Monk over in the process, charged straight for the Dancer, bounced off the
cage bars, leaped up in the air, split its muzzle open on the top of the rigging, and began racing around the
perimeter of the cage.
“ Don't shoot him unless he goes for me!” Monk yelled to the Dancer. He was on his feet, edging his way to
the door, and suddenly the animal skidded to a stop and began approaching him very slowly. Monk cracked
his whip again, and the animal began racing around the cage once more, foaming at the mouth and dribbling
a foul-smelling stream of urine behind itself.
It took another minute to stop, and then Monk finally drove it back and carefully stepped out of the cage. “
What the hell happened?” asked Flint.
“ The noise,” said Monk, panting heavily and sweating profusely. “ The whip scares him a bit, but applause is
going to drive him absolutely up a tree.”
“ Is there anything you can do with him?”
“ He's psychotic, Thaddeus. I can put on a show for small and select audiences who promise never to yell or
clap their hands, but there's no way he's going to be able to work in the specialty tent. Look at him— he's
crapping all over himself.”
Flint looked at the huge carnivore trembling in the center of the ring, whining and slowly going to pieces, and
shook his head. “ I thought we had one this time,” he said at last.
“ When he calms down I'll get him back to his crate,” said Monk, picking up a towel and mopping his face. “ I
hope no one runs any machines around here in the meantime.”
“ I'll see to it,” said Flint. He passed the order to a couple of the carnies and a robot.
Tojo arrived a minute later, laden down with plastic and hard rubber balls.