"Philip E. High - Twin Planets" - читать интересную книгу автора (High Phillip E)

The starter groaned, the engine turned protestingly, missed, faltered and
finally fired unevenly. Vaguely he was glad he had not drained the
antifreeze of the previous winter.

The first time he tried to pull away, the engine stalled and he had to
restart, but the second tune the engine had almost settled down to its
familiar purr.

The opposite direction was, he found, no more encouraging than the
flaring horizon from which he had turned. The distant heights which faced
him might have been normal mountains, but he didn't think they were.
The jagged peaks and long surfaces which threw back the glare almost like
mirrors could mean only one thing—ice. Mountains of ice, enormous
glaciers rising tier upon tier as far as he could see.

God, he was so cold. His feet felt numb and the middle finger of his
right hand was white and bloodless.

He turned on the heater and was grateful for the flow of lukewarm air
from the slowly heating engine.

An enormous gust of wind shook the car and he skidded slightly on the
icy road. Better hold the thing in second gear. Funny driving through hell
in second gear, spatter of hail on the windshield but everlasting fire
behind you. Wait now, for the horned gentleman with goat's legs and a
trident. Watch it, Denning, watch it! You're becoming hysterical, a little
more like that and you'll start gibbering—but, oh God, what the hell has
happened?

At that moment a curt voice which seemed to come from the empty
seat beside him said: "Halt! Halt! Police!"

Fortunately Denning was already slowing or he would have run straight
into the back of the thing which appeared suddenly in front of him.

He braked violently and stopped.

The thing was black, pear-shaped and without visible door or windows.
It hung, silently, just in front of him without visible means of support.

As he watched, an opening appeared in the thing's side and a man
stepped out. He wore what appeared to be a black crash-helmet with a
sharply pointed peak. Above the peak, painted in thick, rather clumsy,
white lettering were the words ZONAL POLICE. Below the helmet was a
tight fitting scarlet uniform which covered the man's entire body,
including his hands and feet.

He strode over and Denning automatically wound down the window,
shivering in a sudden blast of ice cold air.