wouldn’t Warluck just love to stumble upon the last two eggs in the same basket!” Kalvin said, his voice resuming its confidence, his body thrusting off the accumulation of age which had so stooped it just an instant ago. “We must be together only in God, until the safety of the Missionary gene bank is once again secure without us. Until then.…”
He took his grandson in one final embrace, his arms strong, his muscles—another legacy passed down to all Missionary men from Jon Missionary—hard against the hardness of Gerun’s youthful body.
“Go with God, grandson,” he said. Then, he was gone, slipped into the night so silently that Gerun’s mentat couldn’t pick up a trace of it or know the direction the old man had taken.
Gerun dropped to his knees, tented his hands beneath his chin, and shut his eyes. He prayed to his god, to Jon Missionary’s god, to Kalvin Missionary’s god, hoping—deep down in his heart of hearts—that he wasn’t asking help from a deity whom wasn’t there and, what’s more, never had been.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
