[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
damaged muscles back together.
Another shot - the bullet passed over the top of my head and a wave of heat tousled my hair. The soft sound
suggested that the gun must have a silencer. The fact that they hadn't killed me yet suggested that they were
firing from a pistol, and firing very well, or from a sniper's rifle, and extremely badly.
But why couldn't I see the gunman?
I waved my hand and spread a five-minute Morpheus spell over the entire street. Then, after a moment's
hesitation, I spread it across all the windows. And the roofs of the buildings, and the nearby side streets.
Morpheus is a gentle spell, it gives a man about five seconds before it puts him out altogether: if he's standing, he
can sit down, mothers holding children can put them down, drivers can slow down. There wouldn't be any
casualties. Or probably not.
Silence.
Had I got him?
I got up and looked through the Twilight again. Well now, whoever you might be, if you've fallen asleep, your
camouflage will failA click. A faint flash in the side street. And another bullet went flying into my poor right
shoulder! In exactly the same spot!
Well, I could take some comfort in the fact that I already had a wound there in any case. But it was really painful!
Why did it hurt so badly if there was already a hole there?
I squatted down so that the fountain shielded me from the gunman. Now there was no doubt that the shots really
were coming from the side street.
What was I going to do? Hurl fireballs into the darkness and try to get the camouflaged gunman that way? Scorch
everything around me with the White Mirage? Put on a Magician's Shield and go into open battle . . . but if I
couldn't see my enemy, then I was facing a magician more powerful than I was!
Or call for help, ring the police, call in Geser and Foma?
Stop.
It didn't have to be Geser and Foma.
What was that Zabulon had said? Contact, advice, protection?
A bit of protection wouldn't come amiss right now.
I took the little figure out of my pocket and set it down on the cobblestones of the roadway. I touched it gently
with Power and shouted:
'I! Need! Help!'
It all happened in a split second. The air struck my face so hard that for a moment I thought the invisible gunman
had switched to grenades, But it was the figure being transformed - swelling up and softening and turning into a
shaggy grey shadow. White fangs glinted in the darkness, yellow wolf's eyes glittered, and the werewolf leapt
straight over the fountain, then immediately jumped to the right. There was the click of a shot, but obviously it
missed. Skipping from side to side as precisely as only a creature that is targeted by gunfire can, the beast went
dashing into the side street. I heard growling, then there was a rumble and a metallic clang. The clicks of the
shots carried on sounding in the same way, at regular intervals of a second or two, but something told me the
bullets were going astray, and the gunman was not dangerous any more.
I jumped up and ran after the wolf, covering myself with a Shield just in case. And I finally did what it would have
been a very good idea to have done in the first place: I created light. A simple spell that any Light Magician can
manage. An appeal to the primordial Power - and there was a bright white light swaying in the air above me.
And I immediately saw the one who had nearly killed me. The one who had not been visible in the Twilight.
A fancy metal tripod similar to a professional stand for a video camera. Standing on a rotating disc on the tripod -
a cylinder with gleaming lenses. Attached to the disc by a spring-recoil clamp - a short rifle with a round
magazine like that of the old Soviet PPSh and a long ridged silencer on the barrel. A metal-clad cable ran up to
the trigger, ending in a clamp with a wire that ran round the trigger.
The robot was still functioning. The cylinder was twitching with a quiet buzzing sound, the clamp was pressing
the trigger - and the rifle, now pointing upwards, was firing into the sky. I leaned down, feeling the blood flowing
over my shoulder. I put my good hand on the cylinder. On the side I found a little lid with an inscription in Chinese
characters - 'Shooter I' - followed by a number:'285590607'. Below the hieroglyphs a round, smiling child's face [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl rafalstec.xlx.pl
damaged muscles back together.
Another shot - the bullet passed over the top of my head and a wave of heat tousled my hair. The soft sound
suggested that the gun must have a silencer. The fact that they hadn't killed me yet suggested that they were
firing from a pistol, and firing very well, or from a sniper's rifle, and extremely badly.
But why couldn't I see the gunman?
I waved my hand and spread a five-minute Morpheus spell over the entire street. Then, after a moment's
hesitation, I spread it across all the windows. And the roofs of the buildings, and the nearby side streets.
Morpheus is a gentle spell, it gives a man about five seconds before it puts him out altogether: if he's standing, he
can sit down, mothers holding children can put them down, drivers can slow down. There wouldn't be any
casualties. Or probably not.
Silence.
Had I got him?
I got up and looked through the Twilight again. Well now, whoever you might be, if you've fallen asleep, your
camouflage will failA click. A faint flash in the side street. And another bullet went flying into my poor right
shoulder! In exactly the same spot!
Well, I could take some comfort in the fact that I already had a wound there in any case. But it was really painful!
Why did it hurt so badly if there was already a hole there?
I squatted down so that the fountain shielded me from the gunman. Now there was no doubt that the shots really
were coming from the side street.
What was I going to do? Hurl fireballs into the darkness and try to get the camouflaged gunman that way? Scorch
everything around me with the White Mirage? Put on a Magician's Shield and go into open battle . . . but if I
couldn't see my enemy, then I was facing a magician more powerful than I was!
Or call for help, ring the police, call in Geser and Foma?
Stop.
It didn't have to be Geser and Foma.
What was that Zabulon had said? Contact, advice, protection?
A bit of protection wouldn't come amiss right now.
I took the little figure out of my pocket and set it down on the cobblestones of the roadway. I touched it gently
with Power and shouted:
'I! Need! Help!'
It all happened in a split second. The air struck my face so hard that for a moment I thought the invisible gunman
had switched to grenades, But it was the figure being transformed - swelling up and softening and turning into a
shaggy grey shadow. White fangs glinted in the darkness, yellow wolf's eyes glittered, and the werewolf leapt
straight over the fountain, then immediately jumped to the right. There was the click of a shot, but obviously it
missed. Skipping from side to side as precisely as only a creature that is targeted by gunfire can, the beast went
dashing into the side street. I heard growling, then there was a rumble and a metallic clang. The clicks of the
shots carried on sounding in the same way, at regular intervals of a second or two, but something told me the
bullets were going astray, and the gunman was not dangerous any more.
I jumped up and ran after the wolf, covering myself with a Shield just in case. And I finally did what it would have
been a very good idea to have done in the first place: I created light. A simple spell that any Light Magician can
manage. An appeal to the primordial Power - and there was a bright white light swaying in the air above me.
And I immediately saw the one who had nearly killed me. The one who had not been visible in the Twilight.
A fancy metal tripod similar to a professional stand for a video camera. Standing on a rotating disc on the tripod -
a cylinder with gleaming lenses. Attached to the disc by a spring-recoil clamp - a short rifle with a round
magazine like that of the old Soviet PPSh and a long ridged silencer on the barrel. A metal-clad cable ran up to
the trigger, ending in a clamp with a wire that ran round the trigger.
The robot was still functioning. The cylinder was twitching with a quiet buzzing sound, the clamp was pressing
the trigger - and the rifle, now pointing upwards, was firing into the sky. I leaned down, feeling the blood flowing
over my shoulder. I put my good hand on the cylinder. On the side I found a little lid with an inscription in Chinese
characters - 'Shooter I' - followed by a number:'285590607'. Below the hieroglyphs a round, smiling child's face [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]