"James P. Hogan - Giants 1 - Inherit The Stars" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hogan James P)

"Did you see the call I made to Francis?"
"Yep."
"Then..." Borlan didn't seem sure of how to put it. "...I don't know an
awful lot more than you do." He placed his hands palms-down on the desk man
attitude of candor, but his sigh was that of one not really expecting to be
believed. He was right.
"Come on, Felix. Give." Hunt's expression said the rest.
"You must know," Gray insisted. "You fixed it all up."
"Straight." Borlan looked from one to the other. "Look, taking things
worldwide, who would you say our biggest customer is? It's no secret -- UN
Space Arm. We do everything for them from Lunar data links to -- to laser
terminal clusters and robot probes. Do you know how much revenue I've got
forecast from UNSA next fiscal? Two hundred million bucks...two hundred
million!"
"So?"
"So...well -- when a customer like that says he needs help, he gets
help. I'll tell you what happened. It was like this: UNSA is a big potential
user of scopes, so we fed them all the information we've got on what the scope
can do and how development is progressing in Francis's neck of the woods. One
day -- the day before I called Francis -- this guy comes to see me all the way
from Houston, where one of the big UNSA outfits has its HQ. He's an old buddy
of mine -- their top man, no less. He wants to know can the scope do this and
can it do that, and I tell him sure it can. Then he gives me some examples of
the things he's got in mind and he asks if we've got a working model yet. I
tell him not yet, but that you've got a working prototype in England; we can
arrange for nun to go see it if he wants. But that's not what he wants. He
wants the prototype down there in Houston, and he wants people who can operate
it. He'll pay, he says -- we can name our own figure -- but he wants that
instrument -- something to do with a top-priority project down there that's
got the whole of UNSA in a flap. When I ask him what it is, he clams up and
says it's 'security restricted' for the moment."
"Sounds a funny business," Hunt commented with a frown. "It'll cause
some bloody awful problems back at Metadyne."
"I told him all that." Borlan turned his palms upward in a gesture of
helplessness. "I told him the score regarding the production schedules and
availability forecasts, but he said this thing was big and he wouldn't go
causing this kind of trouble if he didn't have a good reason. He wouldn't,
either," Borlan added with obvious sincerity. "I've known him for years. He
said UNSA would pay compensation for whatever we figure the delays will cost
us." Borlan resumed his helpless attitude. "So what was I supposed to do? Was
I supposed to tell an old buddy who happens to be my best customer to go take
a jump?"
Hunt rubbed his chin, threw back his last drop of scotch, and took a
long, pensive draw on his cigar.
"And that's it?" he asked at last.
"That's it. Now you know as much as I do -- except that since you left
England we've received instructions from UNSA to start shipping the prototype
to a place near Houston -- a biological institute. The bits should start
arriving day after tomorrow; the installation crew is already on its way over
to begin work preparing the site."