"Keith Brooke - Solo" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brooke Keith)

Solo
a short story by Keith Brooke

Recording.
The swirling wind throws fistfuls of sleet through the darkness. Yellow
light spills out of the windows of the low, uniform buildings lined up
along the track.
I hide behind a tree, keep my head steady as I pan left to right with the
eyecam.
"On nights like this sensible people stay at home and, I confess, that's
where I'd like to be right now. But there's a story to break, events to
report." I keep my voice low. I've learnt already that this establishment
is heavily guarded. And if the agency hadn't sacked me for reasons of
economy I wouldn't be alone here now, I'd have backup.
I make a mental note to cut in some views I shot yesterday: a four storey
red-brick building with a line of spotlights suspended from its eaves,
shining down so that the yard where military vehicles are neatly arranged
is lit without shadow. "Here in C Block," I voice over, "the military
scientists have been working. It is C Block where they took what remained
of the landing craft and it is in C Block that they imprisoned its pilot.
Already, they will have bought the silence of the farmer who witnessed the
crash. And if the man could not be bought they will have silenced him by
other means for these are brutal people, ruled by their fear. Learning
that your race is not unique only ever happens once."
Headlights appear suddenly, picking out the sleet like a swarm of
fireflies. A jeep, crowded with braying, youthful soldiers. I press my
body to the tree, willing them not to look in my direction. The jeep
skids, straightens, heads off into the night.
I hunch low and run through the slush, keeping a course parallel with the
metalled road. I'm cold and wet but I must keep going. This is my big
chance. In fact, the agency did me a favour: when I break this story I'll
have my pick of agencies, each one begging for my services.
I spot a fence and stop well short. It looks like an ordinary chain-link
fence, but after all the high tech gadgets I've seen in the last day or so
I know that won't be the case. There will be cameras at the very least,
perhaps infrared beams, sensors in the ground.
"My first real test," I mutter, panning left to right. "Do I take the
subtle approach - try to find some other way through and so avoid
detection? Or should I be direct - just cut a hole and take them by
surprise?"
I pull my light jacket more tightly shut, wishing I had been able to dress
more sensibly. Sometimes you don't stop to think. Sometimes you take
whatever chance presents itself.
As I consider my options, I pan back along the slush-covered road,
retracing the course I have taken. I stop with the eyecam picking out a
square building, spotlights lined up along its eaves. I turn to the fence
again. "I've decided," I say, stepping forward. "Sometimes you have to
take a gamble. I'm going to cut a hole, but I'm going to have to be fast."

I take a piece of wire between forefinger and thumb, squeeze. The metal