"Alfred Bester - Demolished Man, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bester Alfred)

hire a 1st."
"And?" Reich muttered.
"The occasion has arisen, Mr. Reich, and I believe Blonn may be
available. Briefly..."
"It says here."
"Briefly, Mr. Reich, Monarch is hiring so many Espers that I have
suggested we set up a special Esper Personnel Department, headed by a 1st
like Blonn, to devote itself exclusively to interviewing telepaths."
"He's wondering why you can't handle it."
"I have given you the background to explain why I cannot handle the
job, Mr. Reich. I am a 2nd Class Esper. I can telepath normal applicants
rapidly and efficiently, but I cannot handle other Espers with the same
speed and economy. All Espers are accustomed to using mind-blocks of
varying effectiveness depending on their rating. It would take me one hour
per 3rd for an efficient screening interview. It would take me three hours
per 2nd. I could not possibly peep through the mind-block of a 1st. We must
hire a 1st like Blonn for this work. The cost will be enormous, of course,
but the necessity is urgent."
"What's so urgent?" Reich said.
"For heaven's sake! Don't give him that picture! That isn't diversion.
It's waving a red flag. He's sore enough now."
"I have my job to do, Madam." To Reich, the Chief said: "The fact is,
sir, we are not hiring the best Espers. The D'Courtney Cartel has been
taking the cream of the Espers away from us. Over and over again, through
lack of proper facilities, we have been mouse-trapped by D'Courtney into
bidding for inferior people while D'Courtney has quietly appropriated the
best."
"Damn you!" Reich shouted. "Damn D'Courtney. All right. Set it up. And
tell this Blonn to start mouse-trapping D'Courtney. You'd better start,
too."
Reich tore out of Personnel and over to Sales-city. The same
unpleasant information was waiting for him. Monarch Utilities & Resources
was losing the gut-fight with the D'Courtney Cartel. It was losing the
fight in every sector-city---Advertising, Engineering, Research, Public
Relations. There was no escaping the certainty of defeat. Reich knew his
back was to the wall.
He returned to his own office and paced in a fury for five minutes.
"It's no use," he muttered. "I know I'll have to kill him. He won't accept
merger. Why should he? He's licked me and he knows it. I'll have to kill
him and I'll need help. Peeper help."
He flipped on the v-phone and told the operator; "Recreation."
A sparkling lounge appeared on the screen, decorated in chrome and
enamel, equipped with game tables and a bar dispenser. It appeared to be
and was used as a recreation center. It was, in fact, headquarters of
Monarch's powerful espionage division. The Recreation Director, a bearded
scholar named West, looked up from a chess problem, then rose to attention.
"Good morning, Mr. Reich."
Warned by the formal `Mister,' Reich said: "Good morning, Mr. West.
Just a routine check. Paternalism, you know. How's amusement these days?"
"Modulated, Mr. Reich. However, I must complain, sir. I think there's