"Paul Levinson - The Consciousness Plague" - читать интересную книгу автора (Levinson Paul)

"Phil! Good to see you!"

Jack Dugan, one of the brass I usually worked withтАФrecently promoted to the commissioner's righthand
man down at One Police PlazaтАФextended his hand. He pulled it back, to contain a wracking cough.
"You look terrible, Jack. What are you taking for that?"

"Nothing." He coughed again, then extended his hand again.

I took it and made a mental note to wash my hands as soon as I left the meeting.

"I guess I should get some antibiotics for this," Jack continued. "But I hate to use the stuffтАФthey say so
much of it is around that bacteria are building up resistance."

I sat down in the available chair across from his desk. It was cherrywoodтАФbig, battered around the
edges, unevenly lacquered. Its rosy shine mirrored Jack's rheumy eyes. "Never knew you were so tuned
in to public health," I said to him.

He gave me a pained smile. "Antibiotics give me the runs. I'd rather have the cough." He cleared his
throat like a bulldozer.

"Yeah, well, antibiotics are like dumb cops, aren't they," I said. "They come on the scene and club
everyone over the headтАФthe good-guy germs in your system that help you digest your food, as well as
the bad guys that make you sick."

He laughed, then coughed. His eyes teared. Finally he took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Let me
tell you why I asked you down here."

I nodded encouragement.

"You know, you and I have had some differences over the years about your penchant for bizarre
casesтАФ"

Yeah, tell me about it, I thought. He'd removed me from cases at least half a dozen times.

"тАФand, even though I've been a sceptic, I was talking to the commissioner the other day, and he thinks
that there's no such thing as being over-prepared these days. He'd like you to head up a special
strange-cases readiness task forceтАФyou know, just to be there, with some possible plans in the waiting,
if something really wacky crops up." He bulldozed his throat again, then went into a coughing spasm. He
pulled a bottle of Poland Spring water out of his desk and guzzled half of it down. "So, what do you
think?" he finally managed to say.

JENNA SIPPED A glass of plum wine and smiled at me that evening. "I know, you hate committees,"
she said.

I leaned back on the sofa in our living room. "I've always accomplished more as a lone wolf," I replied.
"I've seen loads of these task forces come and go. Usually all they do is mark time and eat up energy."

"But you told Dugan you'd think about it," Jenna said.

"Yeah. I suppose it could be good to finally have some people working under me. And some