"Chalker, Jack L - G.O.D. Inc 2 - The Shadow Dancers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Chalker Jack L)

they offered a favor back." He went into his Brando impression. Sam was great
for impressions. "Someday, and that time may never come, you might be asked to
do a small service for me in return. Well, this time G.O.D. is Godfather, Inc.
We been called."
"I think that considerin' what all we done for them, we're even."
"So do I, but all that does is mean we'll get to live our natural lives out.
Once you take, you get taken. There's no such thing as a little graft. Still, I
don't feel any obligation to get my head blown off for them, and even less
obligation to let them get your head blown off. They set us up, but Spade and
Marlowe isn't a subsidiary of G.O.D., Inc., although, Lord knows, everything
else seems to be. We been down before, we can be down again. I love this now,
yeah, but I love you and life more."
I woulda kissed him for that if I could keep from crashin' the car, 'cause he
meant it. Still, I'd been doin' some figurin' of my own.
"Look, Sam-suppose it is a big risk? You know I been feelin' kinda trapped, and
even though we're livin' good, we ain't got no reserve and if we have to make
the agency bigger we'll have ta put most of our money there for a while. Ain't
neither of us gettin' no younger, so this might be a chance for a score. We'll
hear the man out, but I promise that if we both don't go for it then I won't go
it alone. Fair?"
"Fair," he agreed.
Bill Markham was one of them tall, good-lookin', sandy-haired guys who usually
is the sales director of some company on the way up or maybe some jock sellin'
running shoes on TV. I knew he was older'n me, maybe closer to Sam's age, but he
looked real young and he talked real smooth. Knowin' Sam was tired and we both
was curious, though, he got straight to the point. There was just us in his
office, door locked, everything off. Real private.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a little box, and put his thumb on a
small square just about big enough for it. The box opened, and he took out a
small opaque cube about the size of a thumbnail. It looked like cheap polished
plastic, and 'cept for a brown circle on the bottom there was nothin' to mark
it.
"This is what's known as a parium capsule. I don't know where the name comes
from, but they all look pretty much like this except for the color and sometimes
the size. Basically, it's a needle-a substance is sealed inside in some kind of
suspension when it's made, then you put it where you want to inject it on bare
skin, with this little circle down flat against the skin, and press real hard.
Anything inside is injected directly into the bloodstream. It even has a little
bit of logic, so if it needs to find an artery it'll do it. No needle marks, no
pain, no infection, not even much sensation except a little suction feeling when
it fires. Then you toss it away. The Company's field medics and others with a
need for it have them around. They're small, stackable, easy to store, and you
can have a whole pharmacy in a shoe box. This one's used, so feel free to take a
look at it, but don't touch the little spot."
We both looked, but neither of us felt like handlin' it. You didn't know what
had been inside, and none of them gadgets get a hundred percent out; leastwise,
none I ever knew.
"The machine for loading them is small and very portable and has its own
internal power. It's a highly restricted device, but as with all highly
restricted devices it's not impossible to get one or many if you really want