"3 Star Brothers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bova Ben)

A fraction of the energy generated by the fusion reactor was converted into the electricity that powered most of the government buildings in Washington The White House, the Capitol, the Library of Congress, the office buildings for the House and Senate and all the administrative departments from Agriculture to Space, all the agencies from FBI to IRS-- their lights, their air conditioners, their coffee makers and paper shredders and computers and even their pencil sharpeners were all powered by electricity from the man-made star

The largest part of the fusion-generated energy, however,

powered a strangely small device that made no noise, no vibration, and seemed to be doing nothing Energy went in, but to the unappreciative eye, it seemed that absolutely nothing came out The device, little more than a hemisphere of polished metal gleaming in the overhead lights, seemed to swallow the energy and give nothing in return

Except that the city of Washington, and all its suburbs out to a twenty-kilometer radius, were shielded by an invisible, impalpable bubble of energy Airplanes could fly through it Cars could drive through it People could even walk through it without feeling a thing, except perhaps a slight momentary tingling along the skin, as if the tiny hairs on the back of one's neck had been stirred

But a nuclear bomb could not pass the energy bubble It would explode, and the protective screen would absorb the heat and blast and radiation the way a sponge soaks up water, only more efficiently Much more efficiently The best physicists on Earth still did not completely understand how the energy screen worked It was a gift from the stars, from the alien spacecraft that had entered the solar system more than thirty years earlier As was the fusion generator

Together, the fusion generator and the energy screen had ended the Cold War Removing the threat of nuclear holocaust and providing cheap, abundant energy had changed the world enormously Gifts from the stars

"Our command post was being overrun," the third technician was saying, "so I took the automatic rifle from the sergeant who had just been hit and sprayed the bastards a good, long burst Then somebody threw a grenade "

She was older than the two males who worked with her, almost a full generation separated them The two young men listened with envious eyes and mouths hanging agape to her tale of valor in Central America, while the gifts from the stars quietly, unobtrusively protected them all

Dinner was pretty much of a bore, Jo thought The ambassador spoke glowingly of a "new era" in Brazil

"Our president has a unified congress behind him The army has been purged of its more adventurous elements, and the people support our president totally " Jo knew it was an optimistic view of the situation The Brazilian congress was far from unanimous and there were still young military officers who harbored dreams of glory

But, undeniably, Brazil had avoided an army takeover and President de Sagres was starting to move in the direction of devoting the nation's immense wealth to raising the standard of living of the people who created that wealth

Sir Harold leaned close to Jo and whispered, "What on Earth is so amusing?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're smiling like one of Rubens' pink little cherubs "

"Was I? I had no idea " Jo consciously kept her face straight through the rest of the dinner She had no intention of telling Sir Harold or anyone else that President de Sagres's newfound strength had been a gift from her husband

But as she said goodnight to the ambassador and his green-eyed wife and headed down the broad marble steps toward the line of limousines waiting for their owners, Jo was accosted by two other dinner guests

Li-Po Hsen looked distinctly out of place in a tuxedo The Hong Kong industrialist, head of Pacific Commerce Corporation, would have been more at home in a flowing silk robe or even in a lightweight tropical suit The tuxedo was too formal, too western, for his ascetic oriental face with its hollow cheeks and menacing hooded eyes

Wilhelm Kruppmann, on the other hand, looked more like the bouncer in a rough Hamburg rathskeller than the financial genius behind a multinational banking cartel headquartered in Geneva His neck bulged out of his collar, his tuxedo jacket seemed to strain across his shoulders and thick chest

"Do you mind if we ride downtown with you" asked Hsen Despite his oriental looks, he was completely westernized, none of the painfully indirect eastern politeness for him

"Both of you?" asked Jo "Your drivers on strike?"

They laughed, but it was uneasily, Jo thought as she allowed her chauffeur to help her into the plush rear seat of her limo Hsen and Kruppmann took the two seats flanking the TV console, facing Jo

The car pulled smoothly away from the Brazilian embassy and started toward the corporate office towers in the heart of Washington, its electric motor whisper-quiet For several moments Hsen and Kruppmann remained silent as the limousine whisked down tree-lined Bethesda streets Jo watched their faces carefully This was not a social visit

"You can speak freely," she told them "There are no recording devices in here and the partition behind you is soundproof Besides, my chauffeur speaks only Italian " Two of her three assertions were true

Kruppmann and Hsen glanced at each other Jo smiled patiently

"This business of Brazil," the Swiss financier blurted "It has me very worried "