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

Gray flipped a switch, unplugged the briefcase from the socket built
into the armrest of his seat, and coiled the connecting cord back into the
space provided in the lid. He closed the case and stowed it behind his feet.
"Done," he announced.
The scope was the latest in a long line of technological triumphs in the
Metadyne product range to be conceived and nurtured to maturity by the Hunt-
Gray partnership. Hunt was the ideas man, leading something of a free-lance
existence within the organization, left to pursue whatever line of study or
experiment his personal whims or the demands of his researches dictated. His
title was somewhat misleading; in fact he was Theoretical Studies. The
position was one which he had contrived, quite deliberately, to fall into no
obvious place in the managerial hierarchy of Metadyne. He acknowledged no
superior, apart from the managing director, Sir Francis Forsyth-Scott, and
boasted no subordinates. On the company's organization charts, the box
captioned "Theoretical Studies" stood alone and disconnected near the inverted
tree head R & D, as if added as an afterthought. Inside it there appeared the
single entry Dr. Victor Hunt. This was the way he liked it -- a symbiotic
relationship in which Metadyne provided him with the equipment, facilities,
services, and funds he needed for his work, while he provided Metadyne with
first, the prestige of retaining on its payroll a world-acknowledged authority
on nuclear infrastructure theory, and second -- but by no means least -- a
steady supply of fallout.
Gray was the engineer. He was the sieve that the fallout fell on. He had
a genius for spotting the gems of raw ideas that had application potential and
transforming them into developed, tested, marketable products and product
enhancements. Like Hunt, he had survived the mine field of the age of unreason
and emerged safe and single into his mid-thirties. With Hunt, he shared a
passion for work, a healthy partiality for most of the deadly sins to
counterbalance it, and his address book. All things considered, they were a
good team.
Gray bit his lower lip and rubbed his left earlobe. He always bit his
lower lip and rubbed his left earlobe when he was about to talk shop.
"Figured it out yet?" he asked.
"This Borlan business?"
"Uh-huh."
Hunt shook his head before lighting a cigarette. "Beats me."
"I was thinking...Suppose Felix has dug up some hot sales prospect for
scopes -- maybe one of his big Yank customers. He could be setting up some
super demo or something."
Hunt shook his head again. "No. Felix wouldn't go and screw up
Metadyne's schedules for anything like that. Anyhow, it wouldn't make sense --
the obvious thing to do would be to fly the people to where the scope is, not
the other way round."
"Mmmm...I suppose the same thing applies to the other thought that
occurred to me -- some kind of crash teach-in for IDCC people."
"Right -- same thing goes."
"Mmmm..." When Gray spoke again, they had covered another six miles.
"How about a takeover? The whole scope thing is big -- Felix wants it handled
stateside."
Hunt reflected on the proposition. "Not for my money. He's got too much