"Modesitt,.L.E.-.Ecolitian.Enigma.v1.1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

"And I'm supposed to remain under Institute restraint for months or years? No, thank you. I'd rather go to Artos."

Pittsway smiled wryly. "I thought you might. There's a full briefing package on file for you."
"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. This is doubtless another one of those insurmountable opportunities that Strongarms memoirs cites."
"I'll remember that."

"And I think you'd better review your contingency portfolio. I've also granted you the full credit and authority of the Institute."

"The full credit?" The younger Ecolitan wanted to whistle. He hadn't even gotten that on his trade mission to New Augusta.

The Prime nodded. "I've also instructed our representative in Camelot that your authority is as mine, not to be questioned or obstructed."
"You suspect . . . ?"

"I suspect everything, and if my suspicions are correct, this will be even nastier than your last effort. And you may not have much time to act if it comes to that. I hope not, but I'm already half-convinced that we're past hoping. As I indicated, the details are under seal in your briefing packet." The Prime rose. "After you review that, if you have further questions, we can talk. I would also suggest that you inform new Ecolitan professor Ferro-Maine that the situation is uncertain, but that it could be quite hazardous, for reasons we can only suspect, and that you would prefer to limit her briefing to the facts in order to get her unvarnished judgment."
"Yes, Prime." Nathaniel stood, belatedly.

VI

The two figures in field greens sat on the bench in the middle of the Institutes formal garden. "You know," offered Whaler, "this garden dates back to the founding of the Institute. And this bench was where the first Whaler fell in love." The sandy-haired Ecolitan grinned, simultaneously being fully aware of the faint orange-trilia fragrance that seemed to emanate from Sylvia. It was already hard to believe that he'd met her over a dose of fidelitrol, trying not to tell the truth, or not too much of it, while she was doing the same. "This very bench?" she asked with a smile. "One like it, I imagine. Even our benches don't last four hundred years. There are other parallels. He was an Imperial Special Operative. She was an Ecolitan field agent, and probably a far better operative than he was. His specialty, according to the material the Prime gave me, was destruction on a large scale."
"You haven't done that badly."

Nathaniel suppressed a wince, thinking about fifty deaths from a mutated virus that was supposed to have a minimal fatal impact. "I wish I hadn't had to do what I did."

"That makes two of us." Sylvia paused. "Sometimes, our choices are only between the lesser of evils."

"That's one thing that worries me about this Artos assignment," the Ecolitan said quickly. "I have a feeling that nothing good is going to come of it, no matter how we handle it. So does the Prime, and he's granted me a lot of authority. Too much. But we're all just speculating."
"Is it real?" she asked thoughtfully.

"The Prime thinks it is. I don't know. But I worry about your coming." He glanced at her, then added, "On your own, you're probably better than I am at avoiding difficulties. You showed me that on Old Earth."
"Don't humor me."

"I'm not. I couldn't have done it without you." She shook her head, her slate gray eyes momentarily ocean cold. "Fifty-one deaths. Over three hundred people with permanent nerve damage, and you couldn't have done it without me."

"That's not what I meant. I was talking about Artos. If you went somewhere alone. . , you'd be better off than with me. But they've requested an economist, and a study that has to be good, even if it's a cover. And that means one Nathaniel Whaler. I want to spend time with you, but I don't want to make you a target. I told you that this could be very hazardous."

"You're perfectly willing to be a target, dear Nathaniel. And it appears as though we both already are-again."
"I knew that came with the territory. Has for a long time."
"You don't think I didn't know it came with the territory when I left everything to come to Accord-even before that mess at the port? I think I love you, Nathaniel, but I still won't be a kept woman." Sylvia's slate gray eyes caught Whalers, held them. "I know I can help." She offered a faint smile. "You think you love me? You came all this way . . . and you think . . ." The sandy-haired Ecolitan shook his head.

"You didn't ask me for a contract. You didn't even say you loved me. You provided everything, and I know that . . . I know you care. I had to choose, then. There wasn't a second chance. Was there?" Her lips quirked upward. "There almost wasn't a first chance."

"You could have . . ." He paused. Would the I.I.S. really have let her go, if they'd had time to find out and react? Would the Coordinate authorities have been so lenient if he hadn't just delivered an agreement that slaved off an interstellar war? He pursed his lips, then shook his head. "You're right."
"That's one of the many things I can say I love about you."
"What?"

"Behind that secret-agent-economist front . . . you actually listen."