[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
would be able to deal with whatever might happen today.
Now the two beasts that were not really beasts came moving forward side by
side,
leaving behind them the opening in the shallow hillside. Proteus was strongly
reminded of something that he could not quite place, or fully visualize it
lay
there in the ruins of memory, as did so many other things, just eluding his
grasp every time he tried to pick it up.
The more he looked at the two creatures before him, the more certain he was
that
no blood flowed in their veins. To begin with, they were only calf-sized, not
built on the scale of full-grown cattle. Their horns were stubby, little more
than symbols, possibly projections designed for some other purpose entirely.
(And it struck him also that the end of each horn had a broken look,
suggesting
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
that something had been attached above it. Here and there on the upper
surface
of each Bull were small, shiny, irregular spots, suggesting the stumps of
broken
metal branches.
And when these creatures moved, they did not change position casually or
randomly, in the manner of normal animals or people. Instead, the Bulls
either
stood stock still or acted with seeming purpose, as they were doing now, when
they moved a little apart from each other and turned their heads in the
direction of the thin crowd who gaped at them from the field's edge. Proteus
knew he had somewhere, sometime seen well-drilled soldiers act in such a way.
Somehow the idea that the two things that the king called Bulls might
actually
be demons had not occurred to Proteus as a serious possibility. And it had
been
obvious at a glance that they were not human beings, much less gods.
Coolly and thoughtfully Proteus surveyed them, wondering how he himself might
try to do battle against such objects if he were forced to attempt it. They
looked very strong, but still he thought there were some grounds for
optimism.
Their unblinking eyes as blank as glass. They had no mouths that Proteus
could
see, and the weight of each rested upon two skillfully jointed,
mechanical-looking legs in front, and two wheels in the rear, where a normal
animal's hind legs would be. At first glance the creatures, or devices, gave
an
almost comical suggestion of beasts with their front legs on the ground,
sitting
in the very carts they were supposed to pull. And Medea had said at the
secret
meeting that they were components of the mysterious Flying Ram.
And now Jason, looking woodenly calm as he was wont to do in moments of
desperation, had turned to him, was making a small gesture, wanting to make
sure
that when it came time to use the helmet half-full of the small, strange
Page 158
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
objects
that were not teeth, Proteus would be ready to hand it over.
Now he muttered sharp oaths to himself. He had seen something of the kind
before, but he was damned if he could say where, or when, or what . . .
groaning
with the futile effort of trying to reestablish some kind of connection with
his
unknown self, he dropped the pebble-like thing back into the helmet. There
was
someone who would be very glad to see a thing like this someone, but who? Not
the still-nameless woman whose orders had caused him to be here. But someone
connected with her . . . He had now come that far, groping into the past.
The urge to know who he was, to try to establish what his life was supposed
to
be about, swept over him again. It was maddening, like an itch that could not
be
scratched or even precisely located. Like an itch, it was worse at some times
than at others, but it never entirely went away. How could he accomplish
anything else until he had freed himself of this nagging urge? And yes, what
he
really ought to do was bring this mysterious object, this fake tooth, to . .
.
to someone who would dearly want to see it . . . someone, but who ?
Jason was now as ready for his trial as he was ever going to be. In the next
moment, before anyone could begin to question his courage, he sprang into
action, charging directly toward the silent, waiting bulks of bronze. It was,
thought Proteus, as if he were determined not to allow himself time to think.
Despite all orders to stay clear, Proteus took a tight grip on his borrowed
spear and stood ready to jump forward and do what he could to rescue Jason if
that proved necessary.
Fortunately the leader, once he had committed himself to action, lived up to
his
reputation as a Hero and stood in no need of help. He seemed to have decided
he
was going to treat his strange opponents as if they were the domestic animals
Page 159
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
they could not be.
Shooting out an arm, Jason grabbed the bull on his right side by the tip of
its [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl chiara76.opx.pl
would be able to deal with whatever might happen today.
Now the two beasts that were not really beasts came moving forward side by
side,
leaving behind them the opening in the shallow hillside. Proteus was strongly
reminded of something that he could not quite place, or fully visualize it
lay
there in the ruins of memory, as did so many other things, just eluding his
grasp every time he tried to pick it up.
The more he looked at the two creatures before him, the more certain he was
that
no blood flowed in their veins. To begin with, they were only calf-sized, not
built on the scale of full-grown cattle. Their horns were stubby, little more
than symbols, possibly projections designed for some other purpose entirely.
(And it struck him also that the end of each horn had a broken look,
suggesting
Page 157
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
that something had been attached above it. Here and there on the upper
surface
of each Bull were small, shiny, irregular spots, suggesting the stumps of
broken
metal branches.
And when these creatures moved, they did not change position casually or
randomly, in the manner of normal animals or people. Instead, the Bulls
either
stood stock still or acted with seeming purpose, as they were doing now, when
they moved a little apart from each other and turned their heads in the
direction of the thin crowd who gaped at them from the field's edge. Proteus
knew he had somewhere, sometime seen well-drilled soldiers act in such a way.
Somehow the idea that the two things that the king called Bulls might
actually
be demons had not occurred to Proteus as a serious possibility. And it had
been
obvious at a glance that they were not human beings, much less gods.
Coolly and thoughtfully Proteus surveyed them, wondering how he himself might
try to do battle against such objects if he were forced to attempt it. They
looked very strong, but still he thought there were some grounds for
optimism.
Their unblinking eyes as blank as glass. They had no mouths that Proteus
could
see, and the weight of each rested upon two skillfully jointed,
mechanical-looking legs in front, and two wheels in the rear, where a normal
animal's hind legs would be. At first glance the creatures, or devices, gave
an
almost comical suggestion of beasts with their front legs on the ground,
sitting
in the very carts they were supposed to pull. And Medea had said at the
secret
meeting that they were components of the mysterious Flying Ram.
And now Jason, looking woodenly calm as he was wont to do in moments of
desperation, had turned to him, was making a small gesture, wanting to make
sure
that when it came time to use the helmet half-full of the small, strange
Page 158
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
objects
that were not teeth, Proteus would be ready to hand it over.
Now he muttered sharp oaths to himself. He had seen something of the kind
before, but he was damned if he could say where, or when, or what . . .
groaning
with the futile effort of trying to reestablish some kind of connection with
his
unknown self, he dropped the pebble-like thing back into the helmet. There
was
someone who would be very glad to see a thing like this someone, but who? Not
the still-nameless woman whose orders had caused him to be here. But someone
connected with her . . . He had now come that far, groping into the past.
The urge to know who he was, to try to establish what his life was supposed
to
be about, swept over him again. It was maddening, like an itch that could not
be
scratched or even precisely located. Like an itch, it was worse at some times
than at others, but it never entirely went away. How could he accomplish
anything else until he had freed himself of this nagging urge? And yes, what
he
really ought to do was bring this mysterious object, this fake tooth, to . .
.
to someone who would dearly want to see it . . . someone, but who ?
Jason was now as ready for his trial as he was ever going to be. In the next
moment, before anyone could begin to question his courage, he sprang into
action, charging directly toward the silent, waiting bulks of bronze. It was,
thought Proteus, as if he were determined not to allow himself time to think.
Despite all orders to stay clear, Proteus took a tight grip on his borrowed
spear and stood ready to jump forward and do what he could to rescue Jason if
that proved necessary.
Fortunately the leader, once he had committed himself to action, lived up to
his
reputation as a Hero and stood in no need of help. He seemed to have decided
he
was going to treat his strange opponents as if they were the domestic animals
Page 159
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
they could not be.
Shooting out an arm, Jason grabbed the bull on his right side by the tip of
its [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]