Unicorn Trade by Anderson, Poul. Part four

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The Unicorn Trade

Presently it snuggled alongside his thigh and licked his fingers, a tiny rasp with a motor going like crazy.

“—nice of you to call, Mr. Tronen, but we don’t have cats. Have you tried the de Lanceys? I l^now they do.”

“—present and accounted for here. Thanks a lot, though. Few people these days would bother.”

“—not ours. But say, why don’t you and your wife come have a drink one evening soon?”

He was sorry when he ran out of names. The house was too God damn silent. Not as much as a clock tick; on the mantel the minutes flickered by in digital readout. Music? No, he had a tin ear; the expensive hi-fi and record library were part of his image, and he wasn’t about to fetch the ballads and jazz she enjoyed from Una’s empty study. Television? What was on? Abruptly he remembered reading about single persons, especially old persons, in big cities, who grow so lonely that they kiss the faces on the screen. He shivered and turned his gaze elsewhere.

The kitten slept. Good idea for him. No more booze; a bromide, make that two bromides, eight or nine solid hours in the sack, and he’d be fit for work regardless of his problems. What about the kitten? It could hardly help letting go sometime during the night. He didn’t fancy scrubbing a mess before he’d had coffee. But if he put the little wretch out, it’d freeze to death. He grinned at his indecision. Assign an engineer . .. In the garage was a beer case. He removed empty deposit bottles, took the box inside, added a layer of clean rags, set it by the stove, fetched

THE KITTEN

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the still bonelessly slumbering kitten, and shut the lid. On the point of departure, he suddenly added a fresh bowl of milk.

Upstairs, he threshed long awake, unhelped by his pills. Absurd, how his thoughts kept straying from Una, from the Deere contract, from everything real, to that silly infant animal. Probably he should put an ad in the paper. But then he could be stuck with the beast for days ,.. . The pound? . .. Una had always wished they’d keep a pet, specifically a cat. She’d accepted his veto. Now, a peace offering? Maybe he should experiment while she was gone, learn if the nuisance actually was intolerable … In his eventual sleep, a leopard stalked him.

His alarm clock brought him struggling to wakefulness. For a moment the dark before dawn was still full of shapes. He groped about; his palm closed on hair and warmth. Una! went through him like a sunbeam. Why was he gladdened? … No, wait, she was gone .. . Had she come back in the night? He fumbled overhead, found and yanked a reading lamp cord. On the pillow beside him rested the kitten.

Oh, no.

It regarded him brightly, pounced on his chest, patted his cheek with a fluff of paw. He sat straight, spilling it. Snatching for a hold, it clawed his neck. He swatted it aside. “Bloody pest!” Evidently he’d forgotten to reclose the lid of the box. He ached from restless hours. His skull was full of sand that gritted out through the eyesockets. As he left the bed, he noticed white smears on spread and electric blanket.

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The Unicorn Trade

Suspicious, he sniffed. Uh-huh. Sour. The stinker must have upset the bowl from the kitchen, which itself must be a pool.

The kitten had retreated to a corner of the room. Its stare seemed hurt, not physically but in an eerily human fashion. Well, cats were a creepy breed. He’d never liked them.

Downstairs, he found his guess confirmed, and had to spend time with a mop before he could take care of his own needs. At least there was no piddle or dropping—Unh, he’d doubtless find some later, crusted in a place hard to get at. “Okay, chum,” he said when the kitten appeared. “That settles the matter.” It buzzed and tried to be petted. Behavior which had been slightly pleasant in his loneliness of yesterday was only irritating now.

Coffee and toast improved his mood. When he sought his car, the air seared him with a cold which had been deepening throughout the night. Silence crackled. Skeleton trees outlined against a sky turning from grey to bloodless white in the east were as stark a sight as he remembered ever seeing. For an instant he wondered if he ought to abandon the kitten in such weather. At the back of his mind, the dream-leopard

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