"Fontana,.D.C.-.Questor.Tapes" - читать интересную книгу автора (Fontana D C)

Jerry turned to Questor. "You said you had a plan!"
Questor nodded and went to the fire door. It was locked
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or bolted from the other side. "Since an extraterritorial investigation of this nature involves several government agencies, and thus several detention locations . . ."He systematically examined the door to determine how it was secured, then firmly grasped the top hinge ". . . we will inspect the detention potential of each until . . ." He pulled, and the top hinge twisted completely loose in his hand, accompanied by the sound of protesting metal and crumbling concrete. The door sagged. "... a reasonable exit is discovered." He bent and pulled free the bottom hinge, then lifted the door aside. "Logic indicates the simplest plan is usually best."
Jerry stared at the wrecked door. "It also helps if you can pull three-inch steel bolts out of reinforced concrete. Let's get out of here."
"Of course," Questor said politely. "That is my programmed imperative."
Darro was presiding over the meeting in the security conference room, and presiding with some impatience. Every new revelation caused a ripple of excitement or startled comment in the audience. They included the project scientists, intelligence personnel, and several other government representatives from the five powers. Two high-ranking generals sat in the front row, frowning as Darro spoke.
"Next, the American government has uncovered a few disturbing facts. Dr. Bradley, please?"
Phyllis Bradley rose and glanced briefly at the sheaf of reports in her hand. "Our psychologists are unanimous in the opinion that despite Robinson's intelligence, he displays a well-defined personality introversion. Dr. Chen?"
"Our doctors concur totally. It is highly unlikely that Robinson could have planned this-or even cooperated willingly."
"In short," Darro said, "it appears that the android engineered its own escape." He waited for the babble of talk to recede. "What we face, then, is an incredibly efficient machine. Its capabilities may go far beyond what we ever expected."

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Gorlov hunched up to the edge of his chair suspiciously. "My government finds it hard to consider even such a clever machine to be an international crisis. You have asked to be given exceptional powers, Mr. Darro."
"I suggest to your government, Doctor, it may be crucial to find it now-while there is only one such machine to deal with."
The French scientist, Audret, pushed to his feet and spoke over the furor in the room. "Monsieur, it required our combined resources to build only one of them. If you are suggesting someone plans an army of such devices-"
Darro interrupted coldly. "Doctor, are you certain this machine may not be capable of reproducing itself? And there are other possibilities. We know it can change its appearance at will, perhaps to resemble any of you here, or even a national leader." He ignored the stir of voices and quieted them with the power of his own. "But the most pressing questions are why was it designed? Why was it programmed to escape? I think it's important that you now hear from someone who actually knew and worked with Dr. Vaslovik. Miss Allison Sample, his former secretary."
Allison had been seated in a corner, barely noticed by the others. At Darro's gesture, she stood and came to the podium. Darro noticed that she trembled slightly and her hands dripped with nervous perspiration. He extended himself and managed a genuinely reassuring smile for her.
"Miss Sample has been made aware of the confidential nature of this meeting. Please speak freely, Miss Sample."
She nodded, a little more sure of herself. "I'd like to make it clear I first consented to answer questions about my former employer only because of my concern for Mr. Robinson."
"Miss Sample was admirably reticent," Darro interjected. He nodded to her. "But what changed that? When Vaslovik's background records were checked-thoroughly checked by my people-please tell us what was discovered."
Allison bit her lip nervously. It was difficult for her to

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admit the facts that Darro had shown her. How could she have worked so closely with Vaslovik and never known? She realized that the audience was waiting for her, and forced herself to speak. "Except for his scientific and academic life, almost everything else about him or his past either couldn't be verified or ... or appeared to be totally false."
The listening group exploded in agitation again, and Darro waited for them to quiet. "Copies of that investigative report will be distributed. Miss Sample, did Professor Vaslovik seem to be concerned over the things happening in the world?"
Allison hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. Very worried."
A phone light on the table beside the podium began to flash. Phillips instantly picked it up and answered it in a low murmur.
"Could Vaslovik have dreamed of replacing the human race with something more efficient?" Darro asked.
"Mr. Darro, I ... I can't guess at what dreams might have been in Dr. Vaslovik's mind."
Phillips urgently waved Darro to the phone. As the project chief took the receiver, Allison turned to the audience again. "The thing I thought important to tell you was that soon after the android broke out, a man came to our archives. He seemed strange at first-incredibly formal-then he became rather charming. I found later he'd broken into all our files and no one could identify him, though he said he was part of the project. He said his name was Questor."
She expected an uproar. Instead, the group fell quiet, stunned. Allison leaned forward, her voice low and earnest. "I realize now it was learning to deal with humans even while it was talking to me. I'm not saying it's dangerous. But it learns very, very fast."
Darro hung up the phone and came back to the podium. Allison stepped aside, sensing something wrong. Darro gripped the edges of the lectern so fiercely that it shook. "Ladies and gentlemen . . . I've just received word the android and Robinson were detained by British Immigra-
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tion in London. No passports. They escaped from a locked room within minutes with almost ridiculous ease."
Jerry was grateful for the protection of darkness as they slipped out of the air terminal. He had managed to exchange twenty-five dollars into pounds without drawing attention to himself. Then he and Questor joined a group crowding onto the airport shuttle bus into town. Once deposited at the bus terminal, he looked around at Questor.
"All right. Now where?"
"We are not in the city center?"
"No. Wait a minute. Do you mean the exact center of the city, or where things are happening? Uh . . . where people congregate."
"Excellent, Mr. Robinson. You clarified your statement most precisely. I believe we should proceed toward the area where... things are happening."
"We'll be less noticeable in the underground then."
Questor pondered briefly. "The underground is the subway system, also called the tube."
"Now you've got it."
"I'm sure I shall find it most interesting."
They located the nearby underground entrance and descended the several flights of stairs with another group of commuters. Jerry studied the comprehensive map of the various lines and decided on the best route to Piccadilly Circus. He pointed out the stop on the map. "There ought to be plenty happening there."
Questor frowned. "Entertainment by animals and other such acts will not aid my programmed imperative."
"Questor, the word circus in this context doesn't mean what you think. It's difficult to explain exactly, but-" His voice was drowned out in the roar of the arriving subway train. Jerry quickly purchased tickets and guided Questor into one of the cars. Happily, the android was so fascinated by the sights, sounds, and smells of this new world that he did not pursue the matter of the word circus.
They exited at the Piccadilly Circus stop and emerged into a throng of evening street people. Traffic flowed endlessly around the massive fountain that was topped by the
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graceful statue of Eros. The traditional blaze of neon signs on every building around the great circle seared the night sky and cast strange shadows. Young people clustered at the base of the fountain, playing guitars and flutes, singing their own kind of songs. On every inch of sidewalk, people jostled one another.