"Piers Anthony - Out of Phaze" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anthony Piers)

He looked back, but saw the pigheads still clustered at the edge of the swamp. He would have to proceed forward.
"I'm going!" he said, and sloshed along the path. He had to slide his bare feet forward under the water to make sure the firm path continued, lest he get dunked again. He wasn't sure what the snakes would do to him if they caught him, but didn't care to find out.
Fortunately there was no pursuit. As he moved he continued to ponder. If this was not the kind of situation his robot brain would or could have created, how could he account for his dream? The answer was that he could not. But the alternative was to assume that it was not a dream. That suggested that it was reality.
Had he really been transported to the land he had sought, Phaze? By switching places with his twin? Of course a physical exchange could not have occurred. But a mental oneЧthat did seem plausible. His consciousness was in the body of his twinЧand his twin's consciousness must be in Mach's own body.
Mach's lips pursed in a soundless whistle. This thesis was reasonableЧbut what would a human person do in the body of a machine?
The path led to an island rising out of the swamp. Relieved, Mach sloshed toward itЧand stepped off the path again, taking another messy dunking. The path curved about, as it had on land, and he had to check for it constantly.
He drew himself out of the muck, then proceeded to the island. It was thickly overgrown with reeds and brush and small trees, but the path was clear. This was certainly better than the water.
Mach rounded a bendЧand came across a worse monster than before. It was a manЧwith the head of a giant roach. The antennae waved and the complicated insectoid mouth-parts quivered. The thing looked hungry.
Mach backed awayЧbut another roach-head came onto the path behind him. He was trapped.
Well, not quite. He leaped into the brush to the side. Too late he discovered that it was solid brambles; the thorns raked along his legs and torso stingingly. Yet the roach-heads were blocking the path, their ugly mandibles working. He had not been programmed to abhor roaches; indeed, they did not exist in the natural state in the frame of Proton. But his living body evidently loathed the notion of contact with such creatures, and certainly he didn't want those mandibles chewing into his tender flesh.
Trapped between unacceptable alternatives, Mach let his body govern. His head went back and he screamed. "Heeelp!"
There was a distant sound of music. Then an approaching beat. It sounded as if a horse were approaching.
Mach screamed again. He knew how to ride a horse; that was one of the Game challenges. If the creature were tame, or even if it weren'tЧif he could somehow get on itЧbut of course it was tame, for he heard the music of the rider.
In a very brief time the beat became splashing. The horse was charging through the water. Maybe there was a patrol whose duty was to come to the aid of distressed travelers. Mach called again, making sure the rider could find him.
Now it thundered onto the island, the music of its rider becoming loud. It sounded as though a flute were playing, or several of them. The roach-heads abruptly scuttled into the brush, apparently not bothered by the brambles.
"Here!" Mach cried.
The horse came into sight.
It bore no rider. It was glossy black, with golden socklike coloration on the two hind legs. From the forehead sprouted a long spiraled horn.
This was a unicorn.
Mach was beyond caring at this point. "I beg you, beautiful creatureЧcarry me from here!" he called.
The unicorn stopped. It was a mare, not large for a horse, but in fit condition. Her head turned toward Mach. She sounded a double note of query.
The horn was making the music! Citizen Blue had mentioned this, long ago, but Mach had assumed this was mere embellishment of a tale told to a child. Now he realized that it was literal. His father had come from this frame, and had known unicorns. |
Mach pulled himself painfully from the brambles. His| body was bleeding in several places. "If you will carry| meЧ" he repeated, afraid the mare would bolt before! he could mount her. $
But she made an acquiescent note. He came up to her and scrambled onto her back, taking firm hold of her glossy mane. "My gratitude to you, lovely creature!" he gasped.
She started walking, then trotting, wending her way on along the narrow path with sure-footed confidence. As she moved, she played a pretty double melody on her marvelous horn. Mach was good at music, both because he had been programmed for perfect pitch and because it was a useful talent in the Game; he kne quality when he heard it, and that horn was as good as an instrument could be. To think that a mere animal could do it so well! There was no further sign of the roach-heads; evidently the music warned them away.
The path proceeded to the other side of the island and back into the water. The animal trod it with confidence, evidently knowing exactly where to place he: hooves. The water swirled with fish, some of them large three vertical fins cut through the ripples toward them. The unicorn pointed her horn at the largest and blew triple-note chord of warning; the fin altered course im mediately, approaching no closer, and the other two di likewise.
Farther along a thing like a crocodile lifted its Ion, snout, hissing. Again the unicorn blew her chord, and
the thing backpedaled. Mach was impressed; it was evident that this equine creature was not to be trifled with. How fortunate that she had come to his rescue!
But why had she done so? Mach remembered that his father had spoken of associating with a unicorn. Or his alternate self had done so. But he had never provided any details. "That life is past," was all he would ever say. Mach had gathered that unicorns were not necessarily friendly to man; apparently it had been a remarkable thing for a man to befriend one. Yet this one had come right to him, a stranger, and rescued him.
The water-path was finally headed for solid land again. Here the footing seemed to be especially intricate; the unicorn was almost doing a four-footed dance as she stepped along it. And here it was that a more formidable menace appeared.
From the deep water to the side emerged a huge and mottled reptilian head. It had two curling horns and greenish scales and widely spreading whiskers. Then the mouth opened, to reveal an array of teeth as formidable as any Mach had known of. Jets of steam issued from the metallic nostrils, forming swirling little clouds as they cooled and expanded.
The unicorn paused. It was evident that this was a threat she did not dismiss lightly. Indeed, as the monster lifted itself higher, Mach could see why. This was a literal dragon!
The dragon leaned forward, extending two front legs with ferocious talons. Its head swung on a sinuous neck. More steam issued, forming cloudlets bathing Mach with hot vapor. Viscous saliva dripped from the mouth.
The unicorn tilted her head so that her right eye bore directly on Mach, as if questioning him. He shrugged nervously. "If you don't know what to do, 7 certainly don't!" he said. He had been gaining confidence as the animal bore him to safety; now that confidence was rapidly draining away. He realized that the unicorn could not readily back away; the footing was so tricky that she probably had to move forward to achieve it. On land
she could have fled the dragon; here she could not. Since it evidently had no fear of her horn, and appeared to be quite capable of destroying her in combat, this was a formidable threat.
The unicorn made something very like a shrug; the skin of her shoulders rippled. Then she faced the dragon and blew a new chord. This seemed to have about four notes, with a quaver and an especially penetrating quality; it made a shiver run down Mach's back.
The dragon paused. Then it snorted more steam and cranked its jaws farther open. The gape of that mouth was horrendous; Mach realized that the dragon could snap off half his body with one bite, and perhaps intended to do just that. The unicorn's chord of warning had not dissuaded it. This monster knew it commanded the situation, and it was hungry, and it intended to feed. Mach's living heart was beating at a fast rate, and his living breathing was becoming noisy. He was afraid if and this was an emotion he had never before experienced. He did not enjoy it.
The unicorn blew her chord again, louder. Again the dragon paused, the little ears below its horns swivelir to orient on that sound. Evidently the chord was a special type of signal, that did have some effectЧbut not enough to put this monster off entirely.
The dragon brought its head slowly down. The big nostrils pointed at Mach like the barrels of twin rifles. The torso expanded, evidently the dragon was taking a deep breath, getting ready to issue a blast of steam that would cook man and unicorn in place.
The unicorn took her own deep breath. She set her self, pointed her horn straight up, and stretched out her neck. The hairs of her mane lifted, almost like the hackles of an angry dog. There was going to be one phenomenally loud sound!
Abruptly the dragon backed away. Its head traveled to the side and down to the water, and under the surface, and the sinuous neck and body followed. In a moment it was gone.
Mach relaxed quiveringly. The mare had bluffed the dragon away! For some reason the monster had feared the threatened loud sound more than the lesser sounds.
The unicorn resumed her motion along the path, picking her way toward the land. While she did this, Mach pondered the matter further. Surely the louder chord could not have hurt the dragon, if the fainter ones had not. Why, then, had it retreated?
His living brain was not as straightforward about logic as his robot brain had been, but this was not a difficult process. Obviously the chord was not a weapon in itself, but a signal call for help. Thus a faint one served as a warning, while a loud one would be heard all over the forest and bring reinforcements. Other unicorns, perhaps. One dragon might overcome one immobilized unicorn, but suppose several unicorns came? Yet the dragon had disappeared so swiftly and completely into the water that it was hard to see how other unicorns could have come in time to help, or how they could have located the dragon for revenge if they came too late to save their companion. So this didn't make complete sense.
The unicorn reached land and picked up speed, resuming her trot. She resumed her melody; evidently she liked trotting to music. Where was she taking him? And why? She had put herself in real jeopardy to help him, why do this for a stranger? His logical mind struggled to make sense of things.
The path divided without hesitation the animal selected one fork and trotted on. The forest was thinning now, with larger glades appearing, and finally open fields. They were ascending a slope that seemed to have no end; the unicorn's body became warmer from the exertion, but she did not sweat.
Now the land fell away on either side; the path was mounting a ridge, perhaps a glacial moraine. It was hard to tell, because time had passed and dusk was closing; he could not see clearly to the base of the slopes. In due course they reached a ragged cliff; the path cut its
way through to an interior crater that was open to the sky but otherwise closed. Here at last they stopped.
Mach slid off, glad to return to his own feet. He winced as he landed; he had forgotten the abrasion his soles had incurred. Also, his scratches stung. The interest of the ride had distracted him from such details, but now they intruded.
"Well, we are evidently here," he said. "But I don't know why you brought me, and I don't suppose you can explain."