Read Online Star quest by Dean Koontz - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Dean Koontz
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ground, dribbled away, cleansing the earth of the stain of evils endured. And in the winter, it drifted gentle and white, a virgin mantle to restore the hymen of the land, to make things once again pure and sweet and innocent.
Listening carefully, he conversed with it for half an hour, laughing at the tales it told, sighing at the confidences it imparted, frowning at the philosophical comments it made on its way to the sewer.
When he went back to his room, his old clothes were gone and a set of fatigues, olive drab, was waiting for him. This, he recognized, was the uniform dress of the lower class of the Romaghin social structure. He slipped into the rugged yet snug clothes, pressed the ends of the magnetic belt together, slipped into the black boots that were exactly like his old ones except that they broke at mid-calf rather than just below the knee—another sign of the lowest class. It seemed to him, from what history he could remember from Triggy Gop's books, that rebels always identified with the common people—in this case, even though the common people were just as ready, willing, and able as anyone else to blow their heads off.
He strapped the flybelt on and pocketed the gas pistol that had also been left undisturbed. He was warmed by the realization that these people were trying to show their trust for him. He had forgotten that some people could be trusted. And were trusting. Opening the door, he collided with the catgirl. "Oof!" he managed to gasp.
"I came to escort you to the dining hall. We didn't expect you to sleep until lunch," she said, laughing.
"Your accommodations were too good. I think the bed injected me with some sinister narcotic."
"Dragon blood," she said in a mock whisper. Her eyes were like stars.
She led him to the end of a side corridor branching off his own and pushed open a door. "This is it"
He held it. "Ladies first"
He thought she blushed.
"Thank you," she said demurely, entering the room.
They were all at the table. Corgi and Hunk sat side by side at one end. Babe sat across from Fish, and Tohm was shown to a chair next to Mayna. Seer sat in the corner, babbling something to himself, endlessly weeping.
Oh," Tohm said suddenly, "if I'm taking his seat—"
"No, no," Corgi said, his eyes rippling with brilliant gold.
"But after all, I'm just an intruder, and—"
"He sits in the corner always," Corgi said.
Everyone seemed to be uneasy.
"We can draw another table up to this one. I can sit there," Tohm said.
The cat paw came, and the thin finger touched his arm. "I feed him after we are done. It is always like this."
Tohm looked about at the others, then back to Mayna. "I le can't feed himself?"
Her eyes suddenly sparked with a bright light that glittered behind the green little globes. "No, he cannot feed himself! Yes, he is next to helpless! So what is that to you?"
He sat, mouth open. "Well, I didn't mean—"
"Of course you didn't," Corgi said quickly. "You don't understand many things. Mayna gets carried away at times." He gave her a stem look.
She was no longer breathing heavily. "I'm sorry," she said, looking directly at him. "I didn't mean it. Corgi is right. The pressure."
They ate in continued uneasiness, although everyone had made an apology. Tohm wanted nothing more than to get through the entire experience without offending anyone. If Triggy Gop had only had material that would have given a stupid man the basics…
The food was, though more refined than that on Haza-bob's ship, every bit as good as any he had ever eaten. There were thin, delicious sprouts of some green vegetable done in butter sauce and sprinkled with tiny black nuts. Three different varieties of fruit salads dotted the table. The main course was a noodle casserole in some delightful custardy sauce with miniature onions.
"We don't eat meat," Corgi said from across the dish-littered table. "Too many of us are semi-animals in appearance. Somehow, it would be like eating a brother. We stick to
Listening carefully, he conversed with it for half an hour, laughing at the tales it told, sighing at the confidences it imparted, frowning at the philosophical comments it made on its way to the sewer.
When he went back to his room, his old clothes were gone and a set of fatigues, olive drab, was waiting for him. This, he recognized, was the uniform dress of the lower class of the Romaghin social structure. He slipped into the rugged yet snug clothes, pressed the ends of the magnetic belt together, slipped into the black boots that were exactly like his old ones except that they broke at mid-calf rather than just below the knee—another sign of the lowest class. It seemed to him, from what history he could remember from Triggy Gop's books, that rebels always identified with the common people—in this case, even though the common people were just as ready, willing, and able as anyone else to blow their heads off.
He strapped the flybelt on and pocketed the gas pistol that had also been left undisturbed. He was warmed by the realization that these people were trying to show their trust for him. He had forgotten that some people could be trusted. And were trusting. Opening the door, he collided with the catgirl. "Oof!" he managed to gasp.
"I came to escort you to the dining hall. We didn't expect you to sleep until lunch," she said, laughing.
"Your accommodations were too good. I think the bed injected me with some sinister narcotic."
"Dragon blood," she said in a mock whisper. Her eyes were like stars.
She led him to the end of a side corridor branching off his own and pushed open a door. "This is it"
He held it. "Ladies first"
He thought she blushed.
"Thank you," she said demurely, entering the room.
They were all at the table. Corgi and Hunk sat side by side at one end. Babe sat across from Fish, and Tohm was shown to a chair next to Mayna. Seer sat in the corner, babbling something to himself, endlessly weeping.
Oh," Tohm said suddenly, "if I'm taking his seat—"
"No, no," Corgi said, his eyes rippling with brilliant gold.
"But after all, I'm just an intruder, and—"
"He sits in the corner always," Corgi said.
Everyone seemed to be uneasy.
"We can draw another table up to this one. I can sit there," Tohm said.
The cat paw came, and the thin finger touched his arm. "I feed him after we are done. It is always like this."
Tohm looked about at the others, then back to Mayna. "I le can't feed himself?"
Her eyes suddenly sparked with a bright light that glittered behind the green little globes. "No, he cannot feed himself! Yes, he is next to helpless! So what is that to you?"
He sat, mouth open. "Well, I didn't mean—"
"Of course you didn't," Corgi said quickly. "You don't understand many things. Mayna gets carried away at times." He gave her a stem look.
She was no longer breathing heavily. "I'm sorry," she said, looking directly at him. "I didn't mean it. Corgi is right. The pressure."
They ate in continued uneasiness, although everyone had made an apology. Tohm wanted nothing more than to get through the entire experience without offending anyone. If Triggy Gop had only had material that would have given a stupid man the basics…
The food was, though more refined than that on Haza-bob's ship, every bit as good as any he had ever eaten. There were thin, delicious sprouts of some green vegetable done in butter sauce and sprinkled with tiny black nuts. Three different varieties of fruit salads dotted the table. The main course was a noodle casserole in some delightful custardy sauce with miniature onions.
"We don't eat meat," Corgi said from across the dish-littered table. "Too many of us are semi-animals in appearance. Somehow, it would be like eating a brother. We stick to
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