"Daniel Keys Moran - A Tale of the Continuing Time 04 - The AI War" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moran Daniel Keys)

"Jesus and Harry," said Trent. "тАШA well-known cartoon fan.' That was it? That was all you had to go on?
You could have killed an innocent man. Not that I'm not an innocent man," he added, "but still, my point.
Have you ever killed anyone?"

Clearmountain looked up at Trent and said slowly, "Not -- no. No. During the TriCentennial I shot at
some looters -- I run a convenience store in Montana -- but I shot high. I don't think I hit anybody."

"You ever going to try and kill anyone again?"

"What?"
"I said -- "

"I heard you. Are you serious? Would you believe me if I said I wasn't?"

The humor drained from Trent's features. Trent took a step closer to Clearmountain, and Clearmountain
had to raise his head to look up and meet the man's clear gray eyes. It happened right in front of him, but
Charles Pierce Clearmountain could not have described the process had his life depended on it. The
smile vanished and a stillness descended upon the man, a fierceness and a radiant severity that struck
Charles Clearmountain like the bullets he had fired at the man: the person in front of him became Trent
the Uncatchable, the Unification's deadliest enemy, the greatest Player of the age, the man who had ten
years ago walked through a wall with a dozen Peaceforcers watching him --

-- and said, "So long as you live, will you ever try and kill anyone again?"

Clearmountain could not take his eyes off the man, and he had never meant anything more in his life when
he said, "Never. I never will, God, I swear it, I swear it on my children."

Trent relaxed slightly and the brig suddenly seemed twice as large. "Okay. We'll send you back to Earth,
then."

"You . . ." Clearmountain stumbled over it. "You're not -- "

"Going to make you suck death pressure?" Trent grinned at the man. "Nah. Killing is wrong. I do try to
avoid it."

They borrowed a pressure suit for Trent from the Vatsayama; Trent had no intention of risking death
pressure again in the scalesuit Charles Clearmountain had shot twice. It was fortunate that Reverend
Andy didn't need a loan; he was the tallest player in the history of the World Football League, 220
centimeters, taller than most loonies, tall enough that he had, for two years early in his career, played both
professional football and professional dropball. Pressure suits of his height were not totally uncommon;
p-suits that would fit a man of his height and bulk had to be custom ordered.

Captain Bittan came down to the lock to see them off. "You don't really want me to send this son of a
bitch back to Earth?"

Trent winced as he sealed the p-suit up around his cracked ribs. "I do. You're headed for Vesta this run
anyway; put him on an Earthbound Trans-Planet ship when you get there. He won't be a problem, Sid. I
promise."