"Andre Norton - Cat Fantastic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

could rarely be found, so camouflaging was its color, so clever were its habits of concealment. All of
these traits were to be found in the Puma. It was deadly, and it was powerful, but it was nowhere near
the size of previous-objects-of its kind. It and its transport and launching systems were approximately the
size of a large bus which, as a sensible precaution, the exterior was designed to resemble. Just as the
puma slept upwind of possible pursuers and could not be located by scent, the Puma disseminated no
telltale radiation. And after it had done its work, its target area would be free of animal life, but clean.
Troops could go in at once. That was the General's personal contribution.
"Tests start tomorrow," the General said. Someone commented that the weather was not ideal. The
General indicated that if a puma was hungry, the weather didn't matter a damn. If the Puma couldn't be
transported and launched in a hurricane, it had better be redesigned. Did anyone need to do his job over
again, and if so, why hadn't he spoken up before this?
Nobody mentioned blizzard because nobody thought of blizzard.
"It pounces on Sunday," the General said. "I've arranged for the test grounds to be empty. Except for us.
Any indications that we've been breached?"
There hadn't better be, so there weren't.
Nobody asked if it wouldn't be better to use a dummy warhead. Half the point of the test was to see
what the real one would do.
The bus started Friday morning. On orders, the driver took it easy, crossing the desert at fifty-five,
climbing the mountains at forty, slowing down in the tricky spots. They were to spend tonight at the
summit in the lodge, then start down tomorrow to the flats. Two-thirds of the way to the highway the land
conformation made radio or other wave-born communication erratic and chancy at best. A roughly
circular area some ten miles in diameter held not a single human habitation. Unusual autumn rains had
filled an arm of the sometimes-lake so they could park the bus on the shoreline and take no chances of
setting a major fire and getting caught when they unleashed the Puma. Then only a few more miles to the
freeway and on to the coast.
Except that the obvious is always the enemy. They got a flat tire and the driver became stubborn. No
way was he going to drive that bus without a good spare. Unhitch the four-wheel RV off the back, take
the tire to the station and get it patched, return and stow it. The schedule would have to be put back one
day. The General was not pleased but, to everyone's relief, he was not unduly upset.
And that's what they did.
Then the rain began, and it started to look and smell like snow. They had to get the bus out of the
mountains, down to the flat, and they might not be able to for a week or so if that snow...
They started about four. Driving conditions were very, very bad. Snow hit them halfway across the flats.
In the whiteout, the driver became totally disoriented. By the time they found themselves trying to go
back up into the mountains, it was too late to do anything but wait it out.
The General was not pleased. He should have been.

Each morning, Silk became more concerned for Feather's safety. The little one became more and more
determined to solve the mystery of the man she would never call Master. Silk could not shake her feeling
of impending doom and began acting strangely. Someone suggested that a Wise Woman or a veterinary
Healer might find out what troubled their usually self-possessed mother cat. Not until she leaped into
wakefulness one night yowling like a scalded ice-demon and stalked about the house growling, her tail
switching, her eyes blazing, did anyone take the suggestion seriously. Then Anja requested the presence
of a member of the race of sentient beings who coexisted in their land (although separately, for the most
part), and who could speak with both animals and humans.
The word passed. A woman of those people appeared at the steading. Silk met her. What she told Anja
sent the fastest rider on the best horse to another place-and the word flew.
A man who knew of Gates, and what might come through them, and the horror caused by Alizon while
their Gate was open, took horse and rode day and night. Others joined him.
They were too late. The Gate was open, the Call sent, and death was the payment for passage. They