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try to capture you too. So if you don't want to do it-"
Midrange knew that if he didn't do it, David would think it was because he lacked courage. He didn't
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care for that indignity. So he would rescue the mutt and bird. He had known them for some time, after
all. He got ready to sniff them out.
"But Nimby does have a way to help you-by doing the same thing back to it that it's doing to us. Making
copies. He found some catatonic you can take that'll make you spin off hundreds of copies of yourself.
You'll be a real copycat! Then the thing won't know which one is the real you, and you should be able to
get through without getting caught yourself. We think Woofer and Tweeter are caught in a cave, because
the wraiths were trying to get Karen to go into a cave, and if she had, she'd probably also be caught now.
So maybe look for a cave-and watch out. If you can find them within fifteen minutes, even if you do get
caught yourself. Nimby can come and rescue you in his dragon form. He thinks there's nothing around
here that can handle a dragon that size. Then he'll bring you back and we'll catch the RV and get on our
way. Okay?"
Midrange nodded. This was a challenge worthy of his feline mettle.
"Okay, here's the tonic," David said, giving him a capsule with awful-colored ick sloshing inside it.
"Each time you make a sudden move, another copy will spin off and look and act just like you, but it's
really illusion. It'll go seek one of the dog or bird illusions, and when they meet, the two will go poof,
canceling each other out. Understand?"
Midrange nodded. He took the ugly capsule in his mouth and swallowed it. The thing was weird, but not
incapacitating. Then he bounded off, sniffing the air for Woofer's canine doggy scent. He couldn't sniff
out a trail as well as Woofer could, but he could do well enough. There was also Tweeter's smell, good
enough to eat; that would help. It might take him a few minutes to orient, but he would get them.
He bounded in the direction he had last seen Woofer. That trail was still fresh, as it had been only an
hour or so. He could see the dog's claw marks in the ground, and smell the canine odor. Not only was it
doggy, it was specifically Woofer. No problem there.
But what about Tweeter? The bird had been riding on Karen's head, so the scent was very faint, and
overridden by Karen's much stronger human traces. But that should improve when Tweeter left his
associate and went with Woofer. Each of them had a pet human child; they had settled on that long ago,
to make sure no child felt neglected. Because children were generally more fun than adult humans; they
were more active, got into more mischief, and spent more time in the dirt. So Tweeter's pet was Karen,
the smallest going to the smallest. Midrange had David in the middle, and Woofer tried to keep Sean out
of trouble. If Woofer had been with Sean, Sean probably wouldn't have gotten swept away by the dam
burst. Then he had muffed the rescue of Karen. Woofer just wasn't the most competent dog extant. But
of course, no dog was really smart. That was why cats existed: there needed to be a gifted animal in
every family, to keep it functional. But when a family scattered to different locales, it was hard to keep
up with all its parts. That was why there was so much trouble now. Humans were incredibly dense about
the need to remain close enough together for proper supervision.
It was time to test the phantom cat phenomenon. Midrange jerked to the side-and an image of himself
fissioned off and bounded straight ahead. It made no sound and had no odor, but it did look solid, and it
ran well. It even maneuvered around a tree. It would do to fool the dull senses of a human observer.
Maybe even an animal observer, from a distance.
He jerked again, and another nondescript cat peeled off, running in the direction he had been going. So
he could steer them in any direction. Good enough.
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Suddenly he saw a dog. Woofer! He bounded toward the canine-then realized there was no smell. This
was a clone, one of the phantom dogs put out to confuse the issue.
So Midrange jerked aside, sending a clone cat ahead to intercept the thing. He hid behind a rock, to
watch the encounter. This just might be interesting.
The clone cat leaped right into the phantom dog-and both vanished in a puff of nothing. The two
illusions had destroyed each other. Exactly as they were supposed to.
Very well. He would send more cats after more dogs. The more phantom dogs he eliminated, the easier
it would be to locate the real one. He jerked and dodged frantically, sending clones bounding off in all
directions, a veritable horde. Then he resumed the sniffing of Woofer's trail.
He saw a bird. Tweeter! But even as he spied it, so did a clone. The phantom cat leaped, catching the
bird in his mouth-and disappeared. Two more images had canceled each other out.
It served the cat clone right, Midrange thought. The point was to rescue Tweeter, not to consume him.
Birds were fair prey, but Tweeter was a friend. Friends did not eat friends.
He came to a large tree with funny leaves. The smells of animal, bird, and child were strong here. So this
was where Karen had fled the phantoms. So it should be possible to follow her trail back to the cave she
had not entered. But would that be the one where Woofer was? Surely the dog couldn't be that stupid, to
enter the same cave they had avoided before. So that was probably not the one. There just wasn't time to
check every prospect; five minutes were already gone.
So Midrange sniffed out Woofer's fresher scent, going in another direction. Now Tweeter's smell joined
it, still faint, but clearer than before, because he had been flying beside the dog, low to the ground. Every
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