"David Gerrold - Chtorr 3 - A Rage for Revenge" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gerrold David)

The phone spoke instantly into my ear. "We copy. Stand by." The spider unslung a torch from beneath its
belly and brought the nozzle around to bear on us. Its red lights came on with an angry glare and it spoke
with a hard metal voice. "FREEZE WHERE YOU ARE!"
The phone spoke into my ear again. "What model?"
I replied as softly as I could manage. "I can't see the serial number. But it's one of the big ones. A
Robinson. Vigilante, I think. Industrial chassis. Looks like a riot-control model; it's armored and it's got
police fixtures. And . . . yes, military ordnance."
"PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEADS!" the spider ordered. "TAKE THREE STEPS
FORWARD!"
"We copy that too," said the phone emotionlessly.
"And it looks like it's been wounded. It's got scorch marks, scratches, and a couple bad dents. And it's
moving slower than it ` should." I wondered who-or what-had put those dents in it. The phone didn't
respond.
"PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEADS! TAKE THREE STEPS FORWARD!"
"Sir-?" the kid quavered. "Shouldn't we do as it says?"
I nodded. "Very . . . slowly." I took a step forward. Then another. And a third. I brought my hands up
slowly. I glanced sideways to see what the kid was doing. "Don't. Try. Anything."
"Uh-huh," the kid gulped. He looked like he was about to faint. I hoped he wouldn't. It might be fatal.
The spider was studying us with a full sensory scan. There was something wrong with its brain. It was
taking too long and it kept repeating its movements.
My phone reported, "Be very careful! You were right. It is a Vigilante-it's one of the hypered ones. It fell
out of the net three weeks ago, we don't know why. And it won't respond to recall. What's it doing
now?"
"Looking us over. But it's taking too long."
"It can't make up its mind if you're friend or foe. It probably can't read your dogtags."
"Shit. Have you got an override code?"
"We're not sure when it went down, so we don't know what its codes were at the time of the event. It
might still be updating-or it might have locked down when the channel broke."
"And the bad news is . . . ?" I prompted.
"You get to choose which code you want to try. You only get one guess."
There wasn't time to think. I said, "Give me the override cod operative at its last contact."
"Right."
"LOWER YOUR WEAPONS SLOWLY!" the spider bellowed. The phone spoke syllables into my
ear.
"Say again?"
"LOWER YOUR WEAPONS SLOWLY!"
I unhitched my rifle from my shoulder and slid it very slowly to the grass. I shrugged out of my backpack
too and stepped carefully away from it. . . .
The phone was repeating the override code a third time. "Did you get that?"
"Got it." If the spider was still talking, we had a chance.
I took a step forward. The huge machine rebalanced itself, refocusing and readying its weaponry
suspiciously. I spoke loudly and clearly. "Code: Zero. Niner. Charlie. Apple. Six. Emergency override.
Priority Alpha."
"STAY WHERE YOU ARE!"
I repeated the code. Louder this time. "Emergency override. Priority Alpha."
The spider beeped. It clicked. Then it requested in a more courteous tone, "Password?"
My mouth was so dry it hurt. We'd gotten first-level recognition-but that didn't mean anything, not if we
had the wrong password. I cleared my throat.
"Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty."
"Password?" the spider repeated.