"Paul J. McAuley - Dead Man Walking" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mcauley Paul J)

steep ridge that buttressed a great bulge in the rimwall, when the assassin struck. I
glimpsed a hitch of movement high in a corner of my vision, but before I could react, a
taser dart struck my cart and shorted its motor. A second later, a net slammed into
me, slithering over my torso as muscular threads of myoelectric plastic tightened in
constricting folds around my arms and chest. I struggled to free myself as the cart
piddled to a halt, but my arms were pinned to my sides by the net and I couldnтАЩt even
unfasten the safety harness. I could only sit and watch as a figure in a black pressure
suit descended the steep side of the ridge in two huge bounds, reached me in two more.
It ripped out my phone, stripped away my utility belt, the gun in the pocket on the
right thigh of my pressure suit and the knife in the pocket on the left thigh, then
uncoupled my main air supply, punched the release of my harness and dragged me
out of the low-slung seat and hauled me off the road. I was dumped on my back near a
cart parked in the shadow of a house-sized block and the assassin stepped back,
aiming a rail-gun at me.
The neutron camera IтАЩd fitted inside my helmet revealed scant details of the face
behind the gold-filmed mirror of my captorтАЩs visor; its demon made an extrapolation,
searched the database IтАЩd loaded, found a match. Debra Thorn, employed as a
paramedic in the facilityтАЩs infirmary for the past two years, twenty-two, unmarried, no
childrenтАж I realized then that IтАЩd made a serious mistake. The assassin was a
doppelganger, all right, but because she was the double of someone who hadnтАЩt been
an adult when the war had ended she must have been manufactured and decanted
much more recently than me. She wasnтАЩt insane, and she hadnтАЩt spent years under
cover. She was killing people because that was what sheтАЩd been sent here to do.
Because it was her mission.
A light was winking on my head-up displayтАФthe emergency short-range,
line-of-sight walkie-talkie. When I responded, an electronically distorted voice said,
тАЬAre you alone?тАЭ
тАЬAbsolutely.тАЭ
тАЬWho are you?тАЭ
IтАЩd stripped all identifying tags from my suit before setting off, but the doppelganger
who had killed Debra Thorn and taken her place was pointing a gun at my head and it
seemed advisable to tell her my name. She was silent for a moment, no doubt taking a
look at my file. I said, тАЬIтАЩm not the doppelganger of Roy Bruce, if thatтАЩs what youтАЩre
thinking. The person I killed and replaced was a gene wizard by the name of Sharwal
Jah Sharja.тАЭ
I briefly told the assassin the story I have already told you. When I was finished, she
said, тАЬYouтАЩve really been working here for eight years?тАЭ
тАЬEight and a half.тАЭ I had made a very bad mistake about my captorтАЩs motives, but I
must have piqued her curiosity, for otherwise I would already be dead. And even if I
couldnтАЩt talk my way out of this and persuade her to spare me, I still had a couple of
weapons she hadnтАЩt foundтАж I risked a lie, said that her net had compromised my suitтАЩs
thermal integrity. I told her that I was losing heat to the frozen ground, that I would
freeze to death if I didnтАЩt get up.
She told me I could sit up, and to do it slowly.
As I got my feet under me, squatting on my haunches in front of her, I glanced up at
the top of the ridge and made a crucial triangulation.
She said, тАЬMy instructors told me that I would live no more than a year.тАЭ
тАЬPerhaps they told you that you would burn briefly but very brightlyтАФthatтАЩs what
they told me. But they lied. I expect they lied about a lot of things, but I promise to tell
you only the truth. We can leave here, and go anywhere we want to.тАЭ