"Daniel Marcus - Heart of Molten Stone" - читать интересную книгу автора (Marcus Daniel)

I looked at the andy's face. Deadpan, impassive. High cheekbones graced with more elaborate
scarification. Eyes of deep amber. My gaze traveled down the length of its body again. The realization hit
me like a slap.

тАЬYou mean this is amap .?тАЭ

He chuckled again. тАЬYou catch on quick, Company man. The river Styx. Not bad, huh?тАЭ

I was horrified. тАЬYou're really sick.тАЭ
He chuckled. тАЬMaybe so, maybe so. But I told you it's different with andys out here. If you're gonna
understand what's going down in Deep Station that's the first thing you gotta learn. Meet Leilani.тАЭ He
gestured at the andy. тАЬAncient Hawaiian word, means тАШheavenly flower.тАЩтАЭ

The andy looked at me.

For a crazy split second, I almost said тАШhello,тАЩ but I stopped myself. тАЬGoddamnit, Flint, what kind of
game are you playing here?тАЭ

He stood up and faced me. He laid the knife on the stool behind him and held his hands out to me, palms
forward. тАЬNo game. I just want to run this shop, take care of business, same as you. It's Schwartz you
want to come down on, not me.тАЭ

I looked into his eyes. He seemed to be telling the truth, at least as far as he knew it. тАЬI want to talk to
Drake,тАЭ I said. тАЬThere's something going on between the two of you and I want to know what it is.тАЭ

Flint shook his head. тАЬLook, Drake is dumber than a box of dead crabs. He thinks that Schwartz is ...
God. Or Something. It's really tiresome.тАЭ

тАЬWell, let's find him.тАЭ

He sighed. тАЬAll right. Whatever.тАЭ

We looked in the sleeping quarters, the shop, everywhere. No sign of him.

тАЬI've got a bad feeling,тАЭ Flint said. тАЬLet's check your ship.
****

A determined person with a hand laser can, with time and a little luck, ground a jumpship. A well-trained
person can cripple one in no time. Drake was determined and he was well trained. The inside of the
Conrad was a chaotic jumble of melted plastic, fused metal, and scorched ceramic. Great swaths of
bubbled plasticene arched across the ceiling. The instrument panel was a smoking ruin.

Drake lay in a corner of the cabin, a gaping wound in the side of his head, a laser in his outstretched
hand. The edges of the wound were cauterized, but it still oozed a slimy pink and red discharge. An andy
was sprawled next to him, most of its face burned off. I walked forward to get a closer look. Its scalp
bore a similar series of sculpted ridges, and the andy's physique looked very much like Drake'sтАФstocky
and muscular.

тАЬHormone shots,тАЭ Flint said. тАЬCosmetic surgery. Making it over in his image.тАЭ