"Daniel Keys Moran - A Tale of the Continuing Time 01 - Emerald Eyes" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moran Daniel Keys)

"The de Nostri was from de Nostri, the man's an incredible egotist."
"Ah," said Amnier, and Suzanne had to repress a rather evil grin at how eagerly he leapt upon the
opening, "an egotist, yes, but a successful egotist "
Suzanne Montignet did smile then, and watched as her smile struck Amnier. His face became very calm.
So then, he was not, as Malko had thought, attracted only to boys. "I would not say that our work here has
been a failure."
"But neither has it produced a clear success. De Nostri hasтАФchildren, if that is the correct wordтАФwho are
nearly two years of age."
"Children," said Suzanne Montignet with some anger, "is not the correct word Mister, any fool can
produce monsters. Mixing variant gene sets is not so very difficult Slapping together genes from humans and
leopards, among reputable scientists, that's known as playing mix and match What we're doing is more
difficult, and you know it. The foeti we have designed here, from the ground up, are human. They will be
human children "
"But they do not live."
"Not. ." Not yet, she had started to say; Suzanne Montignet clamped down upon her anger. It was almost
as though Malko were there in the room with her, whispering in her ear. Amnier delighted in argument;
directness was the way to handle him "Did you," she asked slowly, "come here to shut us down?"
"I have come," said the small man, as honestly as he was able, "to decide."
They were still staring at each other when the alarms went off.


It was strange, looking down upon the bundle of ammo acids which was my ancestor.
They had assembled him with lasers and viruses, in a process that the histories said would be obsolete
within a decade. It was a primitive process, far likelier to fail than otherwise; the histories were unclear
as to how many times the technique had ever functioned properly in the decade in which it was
employed.
There are moments when Destiny itself reaches out to trace a finger down my cheek, with the touch of a
lover. I do not know if it is the same for Camber Tremodian; he is an immensely practical man in some ways.
The tiny bit of matter before me was the great-grandfather of the first of my line; and it was right that it was
with the Gift of the House of November that I reached out, and took the broken long chains of unliving matter,
and brought them together in the pattern which would let Carl Castanaveras live.


Robin Maclntyre finished reading off status reports in a dull monotone. "We hustled the decon unit
downstairs, andтАФ"
"Radiation?"
"All over the place. Low levels most places, butтАФJorge's badge was totally black." For the first time
Suzanne understood the grief-stricken expression on Robin's face; Jorge, Robin's closest friend on the staff,
was as good as dead. "They're taking Jorge to the hospital; I'm going to log out and go with him."
"No." It was Amnier, standing on the other side of the Information Network terminal. He could not see
either Robin or the status reports that were filling up the other half of the screen. "You can't take him out of
here."
Suzanne was not sure Robin had heard Amnier; she'd slapped down on the silence point as soon as he'd
begun speaking. "Why the hell not?"
"If his badge is black," said Amnier patiently, "he's dead regardless. I saw enough of that during the war;
so did Malko. Check with him if you must; medical technology hasn't advanced as much as all that in the last
decade. Taking him to the hospital will be of use to nobody except this Robin person, and it will, by releasing
knowledge of this radiation contamination into the general populace, place a very potent weapon into the
hands of those who do wish to close you down."
Robin was gesturing on the terminal's screen. Suzanne lifted her thumb from the pressure point. "One