"Jeff Grubb - StarCraft Libertys - Crusade" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grubb Jeff)

тАФTHELIBERTYMANIFESTO


THE CITY SPRAWLED BENEATH MIKEтАЩS FEET LIKE an overturned bucket of jade
cockroaches. From the dizzying height of Handy AndersonтАЩs office, he could almost see the horizon
between the taller buildings. The city reached that far, forming a jagged, spiked tear along the edge of the
world.

The city of Tarsonis, on the planet Tarsonis. The most important city on the most important planet of the
Confederacy of Man. The city so great they named it twice. The city so large its suburbs had greater
populations than some planets. A shining beacon of civilization, keeper of the memories of an Earth now
lost to history, myth, and earlier generations.

A sleeping dragon. And Michael Liberty could not resist twisting its tail.

тАЬCome back from the edge there, Mickey,тАЭ said Anderson. The editor-in-chief was firmly ensconced at
his desk, a desk as far away from the panoramic view as possible.

Michael Liberty liked to think there was a note of concern in his bossтАЩs voice.

тАЬDonтАЩt worry,тАЭ said Mike. тАЬIтАЩm not thinking of jumping.тАЭ He suppressed a smile.

Mike and the rest of the newsroom knew that the editor-in-chief was acrophobic but could not bear to
surrender his stratospheric office view. So on the rare occasions when Liberty was summoned into his
bossтАЩs office, he always stood near the window. Most of the time he and the other drudges and news
hacks worked way down on the fourth floor or in the broadcast booths in the buildingтАЩs basement.
тАЬJumping IтАЩm not worried about,тАЭ said Anderson. тАЬJumping I can handle. Jumping would solve a lot of
my problems and give me a lead for tomorrowтАЩs edition. IтАЩm more worried about some sniper taking you
out from another building.тАЭ

Liberty turned toward his boss. тАЬBloodstains that hard to get out of the carpet?тАЭ

тАЬPart of it,тАЭ said Anderson, smiling. тАЬItтАЩs also a bitch to replace the glass.тАЭ

Liberty look one last look at the traffic crawling far below and returned to the overstuffed chairs facing
the desk. Anderson tried to be nonchalant, but Mike noted that the editor let out a long, slow breath as
Mike moved away from the window.

Michael Liberty settled himself into one of AndersonтАЩs chairs. The chairs were designed to look like
normal furniture, but they were stuffed so that they sank an extra inch or two when someone sat down.
This made the balding editor-in-chief with his comically oversized eyebrows look more imposing. Mike
knew the trick, was not impressed, and set his feet up on the desk.

тАЬSo whatтАЩs the beef?тАЭ the reporter asked.

тАЬHave a cigar, Mickey?тАЭ Anderson motioned with an open palm toward a teak humidor.

Mike hated being called Mickey. He touched his empty shirt pocket, where he normally stashed a pack
of cigarettes. тАЬIтАЩm on the wagon. Trying to cut down.тАЭ