JК
The Lovers :: Фармер Филип Хосе
Страница: 46 из 127It represented a development of arthropod not found on Earth. Unlike its Terran cousins, it did not depend solely on tracheae or breathing tubes for oxygen. A pair of distensible sacs, like a frog's, swelled out and fell in behind its mouth. It was these that had made the snuffling sound.
Though the lungbug was shaped like the sinister praying mantis, Hal didn't worry. Fobo had told him it was not dangerous to a man.
A shrill sound like that of an alarm clock suddenly filled the room. Pornsen sat up on the cot against the wall. Seeing the insect, he yelled. It scurried off. The noise, which had come from the mechanism on Pornsen's wrist, stopped.
Pornsen lay back. He groaned, 'That makes the sixth time those sib bugs have woke me up.'
'Turn off the wristbox,' said Hal.
'So you can sneak out of the room and spill your seed on the ground,' replied Pornsen.
'You have no right to accuse me of such unreal conduct,' said Hal. He spoke mechanically, without deep anger. He was thinking of the voice.
The Forerunner himself said no one was beyond reproach,' muttered Pornsen. He sighed and mumbled as he fell asleep, 'Wonder if the rumor is true... Forerunner himself may be on this planet... watching us... he predicted... aah...'
Hal sat on his cot and watched Pornsen until he began snoring. Hal's own lids felt heavy. Surely, he must have dreamed of that soft, low voice speaking in a tongue neither Terran nor Ozagenian. He must have, because it had been human, and he and the gapt were the only specimens of Homo sapiens for two hundred miles in any direction.
It had been a woman's voice. Forerunner! To hear a woman again! Not Mary. He never wanted to hear her voice again or even hear of her. She was the only woman he had ever – dare he say it to himself? – had. That had been a sorry, disgusting, and humiliating ordeal. But it had not taken from him the wish – he was glad that the Forerunner was not there to read his mind – to meet another woman who might give him that ecstasy of he knew nothing except from spilling his seed – Forerunner help him! – and which was, he was sure, only a paleness and a hollowness compared to that which waited . . .
' Soo Yarrow. Wuhfvayfvoo. Sa mfa, zh'net Tastinak. R'gateh wa f'net. '
Slowly, Hal rose from the cot. His neck was cased in ice. The whisper was coming from the window. He looked at it. The outline of a woman's head tilted into the solid box of moonlight that was window. The solid box became a cascade. Moonwash flowed over white shoulders. The white of a finger crossed the black of a mouth.
Though the lungbug was shaped like the sinister praying mantis, Hal didn't worry. Fobo had told him it was not dangerous to a man.
A shrill sound like that of an alarm clock suddenly filled the room. Pornsen sat up on the cot against the wall. Seeing the insect, he yelled. It scurried off. The noise, which had come from the mechanism on Pornsen's wrist, stopped.
Pornsen lay back. He groaned, 'That makes the sixth time those sib bugs have woke me up.'
'Turn off the wristbox,' said Hal.
'So you can sneak out of the room and spill your seed on the ground,' replied Pornsen.
'You have no right to accuse me of such unreal conduct,' said Hal. He spoke mechanically, without deep anger. He was thinking of the voice.
The Forerunner himself said no one was beyond reproach,' muttered Pornsen. He sighed and mumbled as he fell asleep, 'Wonder if the rumor is true... Forerunner himself may be on this planet... watching us... he predicted... aah...'
Hal sat on his cot and watched Pornsen until he began snoring. Hal's own lids felt heavy. Surely, he must have dreamed of that soft, low voice speaking in a tongue neither Terran nor Ozagenian. He must have, because it had been human, and he and the gapt were the only specimens of Homo sapiens for two hundred miles in any direction.
It had been a woman's voice. Forerunner! To hear a woman again! Not Mary. He never wanted to hear her voice again or even hear of her. She was the only woman he had ever – dare he say it to himself? – had. That had been a sorry, disgusting, and humiliating ordeal. But it had not taken from him the wish – he was glad that the Forerunner was not there to read his mind – to meet another woman who might give him that ecstasy of he knew nothing except from spilling his seed – Forerunner help him! – and which was, he was sure, only a paleness and a hollowness compared to that which waited . . .
' Soo Yarrow. Wuhfvayfvoo. Sa mfa, zh'net Tastinak. R'gateh wa f'net. '
Slowly, Hal rose from the cot. His neck was cased in ice. The whisper was coming from the window. He looked at it. The outline of a woman's head tilted into the solid box of moonlight that was window. The solid box became a cascade. Moonwash flowed over white shoulders. The white of a finger crossed the black of a mouth.