"Philip E. High - The Prodigal Sun" - читать интересную книгу автора (High Phillip E)

The rate his fork traveled from his plate to his mouth was, no doubt, the
subject of intense study. The number of times he masticated his food
would probably become the subject of Interdepartmental debate.

He smiled to himself inwardly. Might as well give them something to
gasp about.

He touched the delivery button and watched the servo eject the carton.
He extracted a cigarette, flicked off the plastic tip and watched the
tobacco light on contact with the atmosphere. Carefully, and with obvious
deliberation, he leaned back in his chair and inhaled deeply.

He almost spoiled the effect in an effort to fight down a cough but
somehow he succeeded. The synthetic tobacco in no way approached the
perfection of Mattrain Kelsna but it would serve as a reasonable substitute
untilтАж

CHAPTER TWO
DUNCAN WAS MET at the ferry port by a group of bleak-faced men
posing as a reception committee.

A minor government official shook his hand with obvious reluctance
and read a typed speech of welcome.

Precisely twelve seconds were allowed for the tele-mikes to get a
close-up of him then the reception committee hustled him into a waiting
vehicle and slammed the door.

"Make yourself comfortable," said a dry voice before he had landed on
the seat.

Duncan said: "Who the hell are you?" and sat down.

"I'm your bodyguard." He was a strangely flat-faced man with a button
nose and pale cold eyes.

"Bodyguard?" Duncan leaned back and crossed his legs.

"That's what they call it. I protect you against possible assault or
alternatively, protect the people against youтАФI make myself plain?" He
took something from his pocket and held it up. "In case you're unfamiliar
with our technology this is officially known as a C-type restraint weapon
or, to the vulgar and uneducated, as a club gun." He spun it deftly in his
hand. "It's tuned to the nervous system and, to the recipient, feels like a
numbing physical blow. Note the advance adjustment button close to the
butt. Pressure on this not only knocks the victim cold but clean out of this
world." He smiled faintly. He had a long curiously puckered mouth which
looked as if it had once possessed a zip fastener. "If it's of any interest I'd
be really grateful if you started something."