"David Zindell - Requiem of Homo Sapiens 01 - The Broken God" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zindell David)

Danlo was ravenous, exhausted, and confused. Because of the
wind and the spindrift stinging his eyes, he was having trouble
seeing. He stood with his spear held back behind his head. His
whole body trembled, and the spearpoint wavered up and down.
Many things happened all at once. Slowly, the animal opened
his large, mobile lips and began making sounds. The man who
had shouted, 'Oh!' shouted again and flung himself at the
animal, or rather, tried to cover him with his body. Three of
the others ran at Danlo, shouting and
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waving their arms and hands. They grabbed him and wrenched
the spear from his hand. They held him tightly. They were not
nearly so strong as Alaloi men, but they were still men, still
strong enough to hold a starved, frightened boy.
One of the men holding him – remarkably, his skin was as
black as charred wood – said something to the animal. Someone
else was shouting, and Danlo couldn't make out what he said. It
sounded like gobbledygook. And then, still more remarkably, the
animal began to speak words. Danlo couldn't understand the
words. In truth, he had never thought there might be languages
other than his own, but he somehow knew that the animal was
conversing in a strange language with the men, and they with
him. There was a great yet subtle consciousness about this
animal, a purusha shining with the clarity and brilliance of a
diamond. Danlo looked at him more closely, at the golden eyes
and especially at the paws that seemed more like hands than
paws. Was he an animal with a man's soul or a man with a
deformed body? Shaida is the way of the man who kills other
men. O blessed God! he thought again, he had almost killed that
which may not be killed.
'Lo ni yujensa!' Danlo said aloud. 'I did not know!'
The animal walked over to him and touched his forehead. He
spoke more words impossible to understand. He smelled of
something familiar, a pungent odour almost like crushed pine
needles.
'Danlo los mi nabra,' Danlo said, formally giving the animal
and the men his name. It was his duty to trade names and
lineages at the first opportunity. He tapped his chest with his
forefinger. 'I am Danlo, son of Haidar.'
The black man holding him nodded his head severely. He poked
Danlo in the chest and nodded again. 'Danlo,' he said. 'Is that
what they call you? What language are you speaking? Where did
you come from that you can't speak the language of the
Civilized Worlds? Danlo the Wild. A wild boy from nowhere
carrying a spear.'
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Danlo, of course, understood nothing of what the man said,
other than the sound of his own name. He didn't know it was a
crime to brandish weapons in the City. He couldn't guess that
with his wind-chewed face and his wild eyes, he had frightened