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

the civilized men of Neverness. In truth, it was really he who
was frightened; the men held him so tightly he could hardly
breathe.
But the animal did not seem frightened at all. He was
scarcely perturbed, looking at him in a kindly way and smiling.
His large mouth fell easily into a kind of permanent, sardonic
smile. 'Danlo,' he repeated, and he touched Danlo's eyelids.
His fingernails were black and shaped like claws, but otherwise
his exceedingly long hands were almost human. 'Danlo.'
He had almost killed that which may not be killed.
'Oh, ho, Danlo, if that is your name, the men of the City
call me Old Father.' The animal-man placed his hand flat
against his chest and repeated, 'Old Father.'
More words, Danlo thought. What good were words when the
mind couldn't make sense of words? He shook his head back and
forth, and tried to pull free. He wanted to leave this strange
place where nothing made sense. The shadow-men had faces like
his own, and the animal-man spoke strange, incomprehensible
words, and he had almost killed that which may not be killed
and therefore almost lost his soul.
Shaida is the cry of the world when it has lost its soul, he
remembered.
The man-animal continued to speak to him, even though it was
clear that Danlo couldn't understand the words. Old Father
explained that he was a Fravashi, one of the alien races who
live in Neverness. He did this solely to soothe Danlo, for
that is the way of the Fravashi, with their melodious voices
and golden eyes, to soothe and reflect that which is most holy
in human beings. In truth, the Fravashi have other ways, other
reasons for dwelling in human cities. (The Fravashi are the
most human of all
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aliens, and they live easily in human houses, apartments, and
hospices so long as these abodes are unheated. So human are
they, in their bodies and in their minds, that many believe
them to be one of the lost, carked races of man.) In truth, the
men surrounding Old Father were not hunters at all, but
students. When Danlo surprised them with his spear, Old Father
had been teaching them the art of thinking. Ironically, that
morning in the blinding wind, he had been showing them the way
of ostrenenie, which is the art of making the familiar seem
strange in order to reveal its essence, to reveal hidden
relationships, and above all, truth. And Danlo, of course,
understood none of this. Even if he had known the language of
the Civilized Worlds, its cultural intricacies would have
escaped him. He knew only that Old Father must be very kind and
very wise. He knew it suddenly deep in his aching throat, knew
it with a direct, intuitive knowledge that Old Father would
call buddhi. As Danlo was to learn in the coming days, Old
Father placed great value on buddhi.