"Dead Men Walking" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mcauley Paul J)specialist team would search every square centimeter of the facility and
Herschel City, check the records and DNA profile of every prisoner, member of staff, citizen and visitor, and release a myriad tiny halflife drones designed to home in on anyone breathing out the combination of metabolic byproducts unique to our kind. The team would almost certainly uncover the assassin, but they would also unmask me. Oh, I suppose that I could have hiked out to some remote location on the surface and hunkered down for the duration, but I had no idea how long the search would last. The only way I could be sure of evading it would be to force my pressure suit put me in deep hibernation for a month or two, and how would I explain my absence when I returned? And besides, I knew that I was dying. I was already taking dangerously large daily doses of steroids to relieve the swelling of my joints and inflammation of my connective tissue caused by my pseudo-lupus. Suspended animation would slow but not stop the progress of my disease. Suppose I never woke up? I spent a long, bleak night considering my options. By the time the city had begun to increase its ambient light level and the members of the local troop of spider monkeys were beginning to hoot softly to each other in the trees outside my little cabin, I knew what I would have to do. I knew that I would have to find the assassin before the team arrived. My resolve hardened when I started my shift a couple of hours later and learned that there had been two more murders, and a minor riot in the prison library. * * * * I found it laughably easy to hack into the facilityТs files: I had been trained well all those years ago, and the data system was of a similar vintage to my found nothing suspicious, and didnТt have any better luck when I examined the dossiers of friends and family of prisoners, their advocates, and traders and businesspeople currently staying in Herschel City. It was possible that I had missed somethingЧno doubt the assassinТs cover story was every bit as good as the one that had served me so well for so long. But having more or less eliminated the obvious suspects, I had to consider the possibility that, just like me, the assassin had been hiding on Ariel ever since the war had ended. I had so much in common with my brothers and sisters that it would not be a wild coincidence if one of them had come to the same decision as I had, and had joined the staff of the prison. Perhaps he had finally gone insane, or perhaps the hardwired imperatives of his old mission had kicked in. Or perhaps, like me, he had discovered that he was coming to the end of his short life span, and had decided to have some funЕ In the short time before the specialist team arrived, it would be impossible to check thoroughly the records of over three thousand staff members. I had reached a dead end. I decided that I needed some advice. Everyone in Herschel City and the prison was talking about the murders. During a casual conversation with Willy Gup, I found it easy enough to ask my old friend if he had any thoughts on how someone might go about uncovering the identity of the assassin. УAnyone with any sense would keep well clear,Ф Willy said. УHeТd keep his nose clean, heТd keep his stick in line, and heТd wait for the specialists.Ф УWho wonТt be here for a week. A full-scale war could have broken out by then.Ф Willy admitted that I had a point. One of the original intake of guards, a |
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