"Eric Frank Russell - Mechanical Mice2" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russell Eric Frank)

tinged with red. My spine exuded perspiration.

Came an irritated scratching upon the outside of the door and a white-tipped paw poked
tentatively through one of the holes. The cat backed to a safe distance when Burman
opened the door, but looked lingeringly toward the labora┬мtory. Its presence needed no
explainingтАФthe alert animal must have caught a glimpse of those infernal little whizzers. The
same thought struck both of us; cats are quick on the pounce, very quick. Given a chance,
maybe this one could make a catch for us.
We enticed it in with fair words and soothing noises. Its eagerness overcame its normal
caution toward strangers, and it entered. We closed the door behind it; Burman got his
length of pipe, sat by the door, tried to keep one eye on the holes and the other on the cat.
He couldn't do both, but he tried. The cat sniffed and prowled around, mewed defeatedly. Its
behavior suggested that it was seeking by sight rather than scent. There wasn't any scent.
With feline persistence, the animal searched the whole laboratory. It passed the buzzing
coffin several times, but ig┬мnored it completely. In the end, the cat gave it up, sat on the
corner of the laboratory table and started to wash its face.
Tick-tick-tick! went the big machine. Then whir-thump! A trap popped open, a shuttle fell out
and raced for the door. A second one followed it. The first was too fast even for the cat, too
fast for the surprised Burman as well. Bang! The length of the steel tube came down
viciously as the leading shuttle bulleted triumphantly through a hole.
But the cat got the second one. With a mighty leap, paws extended, claws out, it caught its
victim one foot from the door. It tried to handle the slippery thing, failed, lost it for an instant.
The shuttle whisked around in a crazy loop. The cat got it again, lost it again, emitted an
angry snarl, batted it against the skirting board. The shuttle lay there, upside down, four
midget wheels in its underside spinning madly with a high, almost inaudible whine.
Eyes alight with excitement, Burman put down his weapon, went to pick up the shuttle. At the
same time, the cat slunk toward it ready to play with it. The shuttle lay there, helplessly
functioning upon its hack. Before either could reach it the big machine across the room went
clunk! opened a trap and ejected another gadget.
With astounding swiftness, the cat turned and pounced upon the newcomer. Then followed
pandemonium. Its prey swerved agilely with a fitful gleam of gold; the cat swerved with it,
cursed and spat. Black-and-white fur whirled around in a fighting haze in which gold
occasionally glowed; the cat's hissings and spittings overlay a persistent whine that swelled
and sank in the manner of accelerating or decelerating gears.
A peculiar gasp came from the cat, and blood spotted the floor. The animal clawed wildly,
emitted another gasp fol┬мlowed by a gurgle. It shivered and flopped, a stream of crim┬мson
pouring from the great gash in its gullet.
We'd hardly time to appreciate the full significance of the ghastly scene when the victor
made for Burman. He was standing by the skirting board, the still-buzzing shuttle in his hand.
His eyes were sticking out with utter horror, but he retained enough presence of mind to
make a frantic jump a second before the bulleting menace reached his feet.
He landed behind the thing, but it reversed in its own length and came for him again. I saw
the mirrorlike sheen of its scalpel as it banked at terrific speed, and the sheen was drowned
in sticky crimson two inches along the blade. Burman jumped over it again, reached the lab
table, got up on that.
"Lord!" he breathed.
By this time I'd got the piece of pipe which he'd discarded. I hefted it, feeling its comforting
weight, then did my best to bat the buzzing lump of wickedness through the window and over
the roofs. It was too agile for me. It whirled, acceler┬мated, dodged the very tip of the
descending steel, and flashed twice around the table upon which Burman had taken refuge.