"Harry Harrison - SSR 09 - The Stainless Steel Rat Goes to He" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

them in the future, I had imagined; now I was the one who was calling. They clicked off, not
wasting my time or attention with needless comments. They were listening and would be here.
I blasted around the last corner and stood on the brakes.
Oily smoke was billowing into the air-already dying down as white spray from a fire copter
played over the wrecked building. The cold clutch on my chest was physical now. I took a moment to
regain control, to breathe carefully. Then ran towards the ruins. Two men in blue uniforms were in
my way and both sprawled and bounced. Then there was a bigger one before me with lots of gold
braid; massed minions closed ranks behind him. I got control of my adrenaline-zapped reflexes and
put my brain into gear.
"My name is diGriz. I've reason to believe that my wife is in there."
"If you will step back and-"
"No." I spat the word like venom and he recoiled automatically. "I pay taxes. Lots of
taxes. To pay you. I am more experienced in police operations than you are." I neglected to add on
which side of the law I had gained that experience. "What do you know about this?"
"Nothing. Fire and police have just arrived. There was an automatic alarm call."
"I'll tell you what I know. This is-or was-the Temple of Eternal Truth. A survivor just
came to my house. Rowena Vinicultura. She said that my wife was here."
I could hear the police computer buzzing in his earphone. "Admiral Sir James diGriz. We
will do everything we can to find your wife. . . Angelina. I am Captain Collin and I note that
your status permits you to accompany this investigation under your owncognizance and
responsibility."
Purely by reflex I had established my forged bona fides as an Admiral of the Fleet when we
had first come to Lussuoso. Basic precautions always pay off.
We followed a large and well-insulated firefightbot into the ruins. It plowed a careful
path, occasionally spraying a smoking remnant, recording for later examination every movement that
it made, every obstacle it put aside. A hanging door screeched and fell and we entered the smoking
interior of what had been a good-sized meeting hall. Roblights suspended from whining blades
floated by above us and illuminated the smoke filled interior.
Destruction on all sides-but no bodies to be seen. The cold knot was still in my midriff.


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The room had been seriously decorated with carved wood paneling and-now smoking- draperies. Rows
of pews faced towards the destroyed side of the room where the smoke was thickest. Precipitators
soon cleared the air and the floating lights glinted from wrecked and twisted machinery.
"We'll hold it here," Captain Collin said. "The disaster team takes over now."
The disaster team was embodied in a single metallic gray robot. It was undoubtedly packed
full of expert programs produced in collaboration with fire and forensic investigators, along with
detectors and probes of microscopic efficiency. Logically I knew it would do an infinitely better
job than we fumbling humans: I still wanted to kick it aside and rush in.
"Do you see any. . . bodies?" I called out.
"No living creatures. No corpses of humans or animals detected. No-yes. Correction. Red
liquid on the floor. Detection processing. It is human blood."
My throat was almost closed. My voice grated and I had trouble talking. "Primary test.
Blood type?"
"Testing. 0 positive, Rh negative."
I didn't hear the rest-nor did it matter. Angelina was a sturdy type B-and Rh positive. I
relaxed, but only so slightly.