"Kristine Kathryn Rusch - Dancers Like Children" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rusch Kristine Kathryn)

I was no longer sure what daffodils smelled like.
The desert spanned between me and the domed city. I wasn't sure if the
reflections I saw were dome lights or a mirage. To my left, salt continually
eroded down the cliff face, little crystals rolling and tumbling to the white
beach below. The Singing Sea devoured the crystals, leaving a salt scum that
reflected the harsh light of the sun. I wondered if this was where, decades
ago, the miners had begun their slaughter of the Dancers. The Dancers were a
protected species now, perhaps one one-hundredth of their original numbers.
This place had a number of protected species, but most lived far away
from the colony. The only known Dancer habitat was at the edge of the domed
city. All the materials sent to me on Minar Base pointed to the Dancers as the
cause of the murders. The colonists wanted me to make a recommendation that
would be used in a preliminary injunction, a recommendation on whether the
Dancers had acted with malicious intent. That idea left me queasy and brought
the dreams back.
I glanced back at the barren brown land leading to the dome. The
colonists called this Bountiful. Colonists who escaped the planet called it
the Gateway to Hell. I could understand why, with the endless heat, the
oxygen-poor air, and the salt-polluted water. Just before I left the base, I
spoke with an old man who had spent his childhood on this planet. The old
man's skin was shriveled and dried from too many hours in an unkind sun. He
ate no salt, and he filled his quarters with fresh, cool water. He said he was
so relieved to become an adult, because then he could legally escape the
planet. He had warned me to stay away. And if I had had a choice, I would
never have come.
"Justin Schafer?"
I turned. A woman stood at the edge of the trail leading back to the
dome. Her body-length white sand scarf fluttered with the breeze.
"I'm Netta Goldin. I'm to take you to the colony."
"We're walking?"
She smiled. "The ecology here is fragile. We have learned to accept a
number of inconveniences." The reflective white cream gathered in the lines on
her face, making her appear creased. "I hear they brought you in from the base
near Minar. Minar is supposed to be lovely."
"They closed the planet almost a decade ago." A shiver went through me.
Minar was lovely, and I hated it. "Your name is familiar."
"I'm the head of the colony."
I remembered now. The scratchy female voice over the telecorder. "Then
you're the one who had me brought in."
She adjusted my scarf hood. The heat seemed to increase, but the
prickling on my scalp stopped. "You're the best person for the job."
"I deal in human aberration. You need a specialist."
"No." She threaded her arm through mine and walked down the trail. The
salt crunched beneath our feet. "I need someone who knows human and xeno
psychology. You seem to be the only one left on either nearby base."
"I thought you were convinced the natives are doing this."
"I think the deaths have happened because of interaction between our
people and the Dancers. It's clear that the Dancers killed the children, but
we don't know why. I want you to investigate those dynamics. I also want this
done fast. I want to do something about the Dancers, protect my people better