"Stephen Kenson - Technobabel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kenson Stephen)

low-orbital factories singing their electronic choruses in praise of commerce
and free enterprise, looking down on the Earth with their watchful eyes,
seeing all.
In the highest throne of the new heaven sat the Zurich-Orbital, home of the
Corporate Court. The Court arbitrated the disputes and laws of the vast,
multinational mega-corporations straddling the globe and holding the power and
prestige once reserved for the nations they had eclipsed. Granted
extraterritorial status by the weakened governments of the world, the
megacorps answer to no law but their own, embodied in the form of the
satellite orbiting high above the mundane concerns of Earth's teeming
populace. From their heavenly headquarters, the thirteen justices of the
Corporate Court pass their divine judgments on the world below and the
megacorporations controlling it.
Justice David Hague of the Corporate Court floated in his small office space
on board the Zurich-Orbital like an angel sitting on a cloud, but the
Justice-a paid employee of Fuchi Industrial Electronics-was anything but
serene. Fidgeting in the loose harness keeping him tethered to one wall of the
small room, Hague did his best to simulate pacing in a zero-gravity
environment. Floating gently back and forth while looking out the room's small
window at the vast blue sphere of the Earth below, he was alone for the moment
with his worries and concerns.
Despite his unease, Hague was very much the image of an angelic figure. His
rosy cheeks and wide blue eyes gave him a boyish air that made him look years
younger. He'd cursed the "baby face" in youth, but now that he was past fifty,
his youthful looks worked to his advantage. Where most of his colleagues were
spending huge sums on cutting-edge treatments to keep them looking young and
vital, David Hague could still pass for a man in his thirties. Oh, there was a
touch of gray in the golden curls, but his hair was so fair most didn't notice
it anyway. He sighed and thought wistfully of his native Amsterdam again,
wishing he were back home, or at least back on Earth.
He longed to be standing on solid ground and wished the whole matter he'd come
here for was over. The trip up to

the orbital had been exhausting, as usual. The Z-O operated on Greenwich Mean
Time, which meant it was something like four a.m. here, whatever meaning that
had for a station in low-earth orbit. Hague's personal body clock wasn't far
off, and he wished for the hundredth time that the whole thing was over and
done with so he could at least get some sleep.
Although Hague, like all of the Corporate Court justices, was no stranger to
confrontation or conflict, he felt a deep uneasiness about the events that had
brought him to the Zurich-Orbital station. A serpent had entered the Corporate
Court's economic and legal Eden, and he feared it might topple their tower to
the heavens just as God had toppled humanity's last attempt. The balance of
power between the megacorporations was delicate in the extreme, and the Court
was entrusted with maintaining it and keeping the peace.
An electronic chime drew Hague's attention away from his brooding. He gently
pushed off from the wall to grab a padded handle, which let him turn toward
the door of the room.
"Enter," he said, and the hatch slid open with a pneumatic hiss to allow