"Hogan, James P - Every Child Is Born A Scientist" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hogan James P)

"No way."

"That's what I thought. That's just what I damn well thought." Aub continued to glower while Clifford thought over what he had just said.

"Where abouts is this going to take place?" Clifford asked at last.
Aub showed his hands and sighed. "Again, they wouldn't say. But what I did gather was that there are going to be lots of people in on it . . . from all kinds of places. Not just experimental particle guys like me, but the works-mathematical guys, physics guys, cosmology guys. . . you name it. They're getting a whole circus together."

"I see. . ." Clifford murmured slowly.

"But do you, Brad . . . really?" Aub's beard quivered with his indignation. "You can see what they're doing-they're setting up a whole high-power scientific team, on the quiet, to take your work apart and go through it with a fine-tooth comb. But they're not even telling you it's happening, let alone inviting you in on it. It's plain piracy. Next thing, they'll be setting up some stooge with his name in big lights all over as having started the whole business. You won't buy their apples so they're cutting you out."

Clifford's initial calm began changing to a cold, creeping anger that climbed slowly up his spine until it filled his whole being. The picture that he had long suspected deep down inside was now laid bare before his eyes. Fighting to keep himself under control, he asked through gritted teeth: "So, what'd you do- take the job?"

Aub shook his head firmly. "If I didn't know what I know I probably would have-it would have sounded pretty interesting-but as things were, I wanted to check out the score with you one more time. They told me the whole thing was politically sensitive and all that junk and not to breathe a word about it, but what the hell? I'm damn glad I did check it out too. Right now I'm in the right mood to go straight back upstairs and tell 'em to upstick it ass-wise."

Clifford was still in an ugly mood ten minutes later when, downstairs in the living room, he recounted the conversation to Sarah.

"It's the end," he fumed, pacing from one side of the room to the other. "This time I've had it. First thing tomorrow I'm going straight in to see Edwards- and Jarrit too, if he's around-and I'm gonna spell out to the two of 'em just what I know about their setup and their neat little plans and their . . . their bullshit! They can throw me out if they like, but just to see their faces will be worth it . . . just to see them scurrying for the woodwork."

Sarah contemplated the ceiling stoically and drummed her fingertips lightly on the arm of her chair until the pounding of his footsteps had stopped. When she sensed that he was looking at her again she lowered her eyes to meet his and shook her head slowly from side to side, at the same time smiling with a mixture of despair and amusement.

"Now, Brad, you know you can't do that," she said. "Assuming, that is, you don't go and have a coronary or burst a blood vessel first. It's just not practical."

"Oh? And why not?"

"Because. . ."

"Because what?"

She sighed a sigh of infinite patience. "Because of Aub," she told him. "To be credible, you'd have to tell them where you got the information, and that would drag Aub into it. The only other way would mean you'd start a big scene and then have to admit that you'd got nothing to back up your accusations, in which case you'd end up looking silly. Either way, it's not practical." Sarah also knew, but didn't say, that whatever satisfaction such an action might have bought Clifford in the short run, ultimately it would achieve nothing significant. Even if such a showdown resulted in his being offered, belatedly, his rightful place in the operation, he would never accept it- not now; the price would be more than his pride and his principles would allow him to pay.

"Yeah . . ." Clifford mumbled after a while. "Yeah, I guess maybe you're right." He walked across the room and stood staring out of the window for a long time, unsure of what he was going to do next. Sarah said nothing but sat soberly contemplating the toe of her shoe.

She had a fairly good idea of what he was going to do.

"You can't," Corrigan declared flatly. "Your contract says so."

"That stuff's academic now," Clifford retorted. "I've already told you-I have."

A long table was set at right angles to the desk in Jarrit's office to form a T-useful for impromptu conferences and small meetings. Jarrit was leaning forward at the desk, fists clenched on the surface in front of him, while Edwards and Corrigan were seated next to each other on one side of the table. Clifford sat opposite them. All four faces were grim.

"There has been no formal request and therefore no approval," Edwards pointed out. "The matter will have to be considered in the regular manner."

"Screw the regular manner," Clifford said. "I've quit."

"I don't think you fully realize the gravity of the issue, Dr. Clifford," Jarrit stated. "This is not some trivial question that can be settled by local procedures. You are employed under the terms of a special federal directive, which states, quite unequivocally, that you do not have the right to terminate your contract unilaterally. Surely I don't have to remind you that we-the whole Western world-are facing a crisis. We are living in an emergency situation."

"The screw-ups that brought it on had nothing to do with me. I've quit."

"Maybe not," Corrigan said. "But the same could be said for everybody else. Nevertheless, you'd agree that you have a share in the obligation to protect the nation from their consequences, wouldn't you?"