"Cory Doctorow - Liberation Spectrum" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dodd Christina)

egomaniacs and social retards on long road trips. That does not scale, LD.
There aren't enough Lee-Danielses to boss all the buses we're going to field.
A real CEO doesn't make every single decision there is to make.

"You want it straight. You want it end-to-end. It's come down to your ego
versus our return on investment, and your ego loses. We're settling into the
next phase, going abroad, and that requires a professional touch. If Canada
ends up in a firefight, what'll it be like in Guatemala?"

The Series A man snorted a nasty chuckle and Lee-Daniel gripped the arms of
his chair as hard as he could to keep from slugging the punk. Lee-Daniel and
his people work around a lot of surveying constraints. At the Moapa River
Indian Reservation, the burial ground was freaking perfect for a
repeater-array, with a commanding view of the entire goddamned rez. The Paiute
elders loved the idea of getting out of the cutthroat slots biz, loved the
idea of leveraging their airwaves into a telco that could handle the secure
comms for every one of the casinos that they used to compete with.

The money couldn't come at the expense of the burial ground. No CogRad
surveyor crew was going to head up there and start hammering in stakes for the
repeaters.

The Akwesahsne Warriors took the cake. A fat, middle-aged man in camou
fatigues decorated with pow-wow badges who called himself "Meatloaf" briefed
them with a topo map of the rez in the school auditorium, and they sat around
it in the fading light of the sun that streamed through the steel-reinforced
windows.
"The areas that have Post-its are strategic. No one except a Warrior goes
within 20 meters of these."

"Sixty feet," Lee-Daniel translated for the surveyors and the antennamen, who
were products of the American educational system and hence
impedance-mismatched with the entire metric-speaking world.

"Sixty feet," Meatloaf said. "You'll know you've gotten too close if you find
yourself at the bottom of a ten-foot pit with two broken legs. Don't go near
the strategic areas, OK?"

Elaine stood up and began to pace the map's length. She unsnapped a
laserpointer from her gearpig bandolier and began to hit each strategic area
in turn.

"All the high ground, right?"

Meatloaf nodded.

"The perimeter, too, right?"

He nodded again.