"Henry Kuttner & C. L. Moore - Earth' s last Citadel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kuttner Henry)

"Don't shoot," a girl's light voice said from the darkness. "Weren't you expecting me?"

Drake kept his pistol raised. There was an annoying coldness in the pit of his stomach. Sir Colin,
he saw, from the corner of his eye, had stepped back into the dark.

"Karen Martin, isn't it?" Drake said. And his skin crawled with the expectation of a bullet from
the night shadows. It was Sir Colin they wanted alive, not himself.

A low laugh in the dark, and a slim, pale figure took shape in the wavering glow from the meteor.
"Right. What luck, our meeting like this!"

Underbrush crashed behind her and another shape emerged from the bushes. ButDrake was watching
Karen. He had met her before, and he had no illusions about the girl. He remembered how she had
fought her way up in Europe, using slyness, using trickery, using ruthlessness as a man would use
his fists. The new Germany had liked that unscrupulousness, needed it—used it. All the better that
it came packaged in slim, curved flesh, bronze-curled, blue-eyed, with shadowy dimples and a mouth
like red velvet, the unstable brilliance of many mixed races shining in her eyes.

Drake was scowling, finger motionless on the gun-trigger. He was, he knew, in a bad spot just now,
silhouet-

ted against the brilliance of the—the thing from the sky. But Sir Colin was still hidden, and he
had a gun.

"Mike," Karen said, "you haven't met Alan Drake. Army Intelligence—American."

A deep, lazy voice from beyond the girl said, "Better drop the gun, buddy. You're a good target."

Drake hesitated. There was no sign from Sir Colin. That meant,—what? Karen and Mike Smith were
probably not alone. Others might be following, and swift action should be in order.

He saw Karen's eyes lifting past him to the glowing surface above. In its red reflection her face
was very curious. Her voice, irritating sure of itself, carried on the ironic pretense of
politeness.

"What have we here?" she inquired lightly. "Not a tank? The High Command will be interested—" She
stepped aside for a better look.

Drake said dryly, "Maybe it's a ship from outer space. Maybe there's something inside—"

There was.

The astonishing certainty of that suddenly filled his mind, stilling all other thought. For an
incredible instant the moonlit valley wavered around him as a probing and a questioning fumbled
through his brain.

Karen took two uncertain backward steps, the self-confidence wiped off her face by blank
amazement, as if the questioning had invaded her mind too. Behind her Mike Smith swore abruptly in
a bewildered undertone. The air seemed to quiver through the Mediterranean valley, as if an