"Lawrence Watt-Evans - War Surplus 01 - The Cyborg And The Sorcerers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

There was room now for evasive action, and he left the road, ran across the fields, then looped
southward. Ten minutes later he settled onto a patch of grass amid a small stand of trees and told the
computer angrily, "Well, now you've done it I could have convinced them I'd found the gun."

"Evidence was to the contrary."

"Evidence, hell! We're dealing with ordinary people—a bunch of near-savages, in fact. I could have
convinced them."

The computer did not reply.

"What do you think we're doing, anyway? What's the point in having a human do your scouting if you
overrule me every time I try to do something you can't?"

"Information unavailable."

"What information is unavailable?"

"Purpose of cyborg unit."

"What?" Slant was surprised out of his irritation. "You don't know what I'm for?"

"Programming provides instructions as to when to permit cyborg unit to act independently and when to
override or terminate. No statement of purpose is provided."

Slant mulled that over for a moment, and was about to ask another question when he was interrupted by
the sound of hoofbeats, approaching from the direction of Teyzha. In an instant he was on his feet, gun at
ready, looking for cover. He ducked between two of the largest trees and waited.

"Party approaching coincides with mobile gravitational anomaly."

"Where is he?" The voice was closer than he had expected, and much closer than he liked.

"There, behind that tree. Be careful, he's got a weapon from the Bad Times."

Slant cursed under his breath; bow had he been spotted? He was not visible and had made no sound; he
was too well trained for that Was this more "magic?" He also found himself annoyed at the second
voice's exact words; it was the fact that his weapon apparently wasn't from the "Bad Times" that had
forced him to flee.

There was no time to worry about details, though; he had to keep the element of surprise, and move too
fast for the Teyzhans to organize and plan. The gun was already in his hands; he leaped from his
concealment and fired a burst at the approaching party, aiming low.

The effect was shattering and gratifying; one of the half-dozen horses fell, apparently hit, throwing his
rider headlong and tripping up at least one of the other mounts. The remaining horses, some perhaps
wounded and all terrified by the roar and Sash of the gun, reared and bucked uncontrollably, whinnying
their fear and trying to turn and flee. Their riders, scarcely less frightened themselves, struggled to control
them.