"Arkadi and Boris Strugatsky. Monday begins on Saturday (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

On the right wing hung a rusty sheet-metal tablet reading, Lukomoriye
St., No. 13, N.K. Gorynitch,* while under it, in shameless splendor, a piece
of plywood bore in inked letters leaning every which way:

CAT OUT OF ORDER

Administration

______________________________________________________________________________
* Reference to Zmei Gorynitch, a fire-breathing dragon of Russian
folklore.




"What CAT?" I asked. "Committee for Advanced Technology?"
The bearded one tittered. "Main thing is-- don't worry about it," he
said. "It's quite amusing here with us, but everything will be quite under
control."
I got out of the car and proceeded to wipe the windshield. Something
suddenly scuffled overhead. I took a look. Settling in and propping himself
comfortably on the gate was a gray-and-white tomcat of gigantic proportions
such as I had never seen before. Having settled himself to his satisfaction,
he bestowed me with a sated and indifferent gaze out of his yellow eyes.
"Kiss-kiss-kiss," I said mechanically. The cat politely but coldly opened
his huge and toothy jaws, delivered a dull throaty growl, and turned away to
look inside the yard. The voice of Hawk-nose issued thence:
"Basil, old friend, may I be permitted to disturb you?"
The bolt squealed. The cat got up and noiselessly dived into the yard.
The gates swayed heavily, there was an awful cracking and screeching, and
the left wing of the gate slowly swung open, followed by Hawk-nose's
straining and reddened face.
"Philanthropist!" he called. "Drive in!"
I got back in the car and slowly drove into the yard. The yard was
quite extensive. In its depths stood a house constructed of huge logs, and
in front of it a squat giant of an oak with a thick, wide, and heavy crown,
which screened the roof from view. A path paved with flagstones led from the
gate to the house, curving around the oak. To the right there was a
vegetable garden, and to the left, in the middle of the lawn, reared a
well-house with windlass, blackened by time and covered with moss.
I parked the car off to the side, turned off the engine, and got out.
The bearded Volodia also climbed out, leaned the gun against the body
of the car, and started to shrug on his rucksack.
"Here you are, all settled," he said.
Hawk-nose was closing the gates with groanings and squealings for
accompaniment while I, feeling a bit out of place, was looking about, not