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- Стр. 81/357
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’
Well
,
’
he
said
to
the
wall
.
’
What
now
?
’
A
voice
behind
him
said
,
’
Um
.
Excuse
please
?
’
He
turned
around
slowly
.
Grouped
around
a
table
in
the
middle
of
the
room
was
a
Klatchian
family
of
father
,
mother
and
half
a
dozen
children
of
dwindling
size
.
Eight
pairs
of
round
eyes
were
fixed
on
Mort
.
A
ninth
pair
belonging
to
an
aged
grandparent
of
indeterminate
sex
weren
’
t
,
because
their
owner
had
taken
advantage
of
the
interruption
to
get
some
elbow
room
at
the
communal
rice
bowl
,
taking
the
view
that
a
boiled
fish
in
the
hand
was
worth
any
amount
of
unexplained
manifestations
,
and
the
silence
was
punctuated
by
the
sound
of
determined
mastication
.
In
one
corner
of
the
crowded
room
was
a
little
shrine
to
Offler
,
the
six
-
armed
Crocodile
God
of
Klatch
.
It
was
grinning
just
like
Death
,
except
of
course
Death
didn
’
t
have
a
flock
of
holy
birds
that
brought
him
news
of
his
worshippers
and
also
kept
his
teeth
clean
.
Klatchians
prize
hospitality
above
all
other
virtues
.
As
Mort
stared
the
woman
took
another
plate
off
the
shelf
behind
her
and
silently
began
to
fill
it
from
the
big
bowl
,
snatching
a
choice
cut
of
catfish
from
the
ancient
’
s
hands
after
a
brief
struggle
.
Her
kohl
-
rimmed
eyes
remained
steadily
on
Mort
,
however
.
It
was
the
father
who
had
spoken
.
Mort
bowed
nervously
.
’
Sorry
,
’
he
said
.
’
Er
,
I
seem
to
have
walked
through
this
wall
.
’
It
was
rather
lame
,
he
had
to
admit
.
’
Please
?
’
said
the
man
.
The
woman
,
her
bangles
jangling
,
carefully
arranged
a
few
slices
of
pepper
across
the
plate
and
sprinkled
it
with
a
dark
green
sauce
that
Mort
was
afraid
he
recognised
.
He
’
d
tried
it
a
few
weeks
before
,
and
although
it
was
a
complicated
recipe
one
taste
had
been
enough
to
know
that
it
was
made
out
of
fish
entrails
marinated
for
several
years
in
a
vat
of
shark
bile
.
Death
had
said
that
it
was
an
acquired
taste
.
Mort
had
decided
not
to
make
the
effort
.
