"Norton, Andre - Daybreak - 2250 A. D." - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

understood. They had old maps with pink and green, blue and yellow patches all carefully marked.


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But the pink and green, blue and yellow areas had had no defense against fire and death from the
air and so had ceased to be. Only now could men, venturing out from their pockets of safety into
the unknown, bring back bits of knowledge which they might piece together into history.

Somewhere, within a mile or so of the trail he had chosen, Fors knew that there was a section of
pre-Blow-up road. And that might be followed by the cautious for about a day's journey north. He
had seen and handled the various trophies brought back by his father and his father's comrades,
but he had never actually traveled the old roads or sniffed the air of the lowlands for himself.
His pace quickened to a lope and he did not even feel the steady pour of the rain which streamed
across his body plastering even his blanket to him. Lura protested with every leap she made to
keep pace with him, but she did not go back. The excitement which drew him on at such an unwary
sped had spread to the always sensitive mind of the great cat and she made her way through the
underbrush with sinuous ease.

The old road was almost a disappointment when he stumbled out upon it. Once it must have had a
smooth surface, but time, disuse, and the spreading greedy force of wild vegetation had seamed and
broken it. Nevertheless it was a marvel to be examined closely by one who had never seen such
footing before. Men had ridden on it once encased in machines. Fors knew that, he had seen
pictures of such machines, but their fashioning was now a mystery. The men of the Eyrie knew facts
about them, painfully dug out of the old books brought back from city lootings, but the materials
and fuels for their production were now beyond hope of obtaining.

Lura did not like the roadway. She tried it with a cautious paw, sniffed at the upturned edge of a
block, and went back to firm ground. But Fors stepped out on it boldly, walking the path of the
Old Ones even when it would have been easier to take to the bush. It gave him an odd feeling of
power to tread so. This stuff beneath his hide boots had been fashioned by those of his race who
had been wiser and stronger and more learned. It was up to those of his breed to regain that lost
wisdom.

"Ho, Lura!"

The cat paused at his exultant call and swung the dark brown mask of her face toward him. Then she
meowed plaintively, conveying the thought that she was being greatly misused by this excursion
into the dampness of an exceedingly unpleasant day.

She was beautiful indeed. Fors' feeling of good will and happiness grew within him as he watched
her. Since he had left the last step of the mountain trail he had felt a curious sense of freedom
and for the first time in his life he did not care about the color of his hair or feel that he
must be inferior to die others of the clan. He had all his father had taught him well in mind, and
in the pouch swinging at his side his father's greatest secret. He had a long bow no other youth
of his age could string, a bow of his own making. His sword was sharp and balanced to suit his
hand alone. There was all the lower world before him and the best of companions to match his
steps.