"Kevin O'Donnel Jr. - The Journeys of McGill Feighan 03 - Lava" - читать интересную книгу автора (O'Donnell Jr Kevin)

"We're going to have to talk to him about this."
"We already have, McGillтАФand he says his mind's made up. This is the
way the rain falls. No changes. Period."
"He's crazy."
"Yup."
A hand touched Feighan's back as a familiar voice said, "Then let's drop
the bastard in the sun, hey guys?"
Walking Mule scowled at Greystein. "Don't even think that way. That's a
real good way to make people think it's something we just might do."
"No sense of humor, Walking Mule. Hey, McGill, what do you think of
that mirror I brought you?"
He snapped his fingers in annoyance. "I'm sorry, GreysteinтАФI forgot all
about it."
"Well, you check it out, you are going to be so pleased! Those Inta
Leinans do not make bad mirrors."
Walking Mule said, "Greystein, I'd reckoned the bosses made it clear you
just ain't supposed to Fling off on your own without permission."
For one moment Greystein blanched. Then his smile flashed bright as
ever. "What they don't know won't hurt them."
"And what happens when they hear about it?"
Greystein's dark eyes narrowed. "Now how would they happen to hear
about it, Walking Mule?"
The older man shrugged. "Word gets around."
Greystein caught his breath, then let it out raggedly. "I do my job and I
do it awful damn well, if I do say so myselfтАФ"
Walking Mule jerked a thumb at the screen. "The numbers say different."
"Goddam the numbers! I can make any set of numbers say anything I
want them to so, so I don't trust those fudged-up so-called facts of theirs. I
do my job, and that's all they should be worried about."
Feighan drifted away. Depressed and grouchy, he could too easily
imagine himself as overwrought as GreysteinтАФand did not want to achieve
that state. So he wandered back to his Room and opened the package. The
paper fell away from a double-sided mirror mounted in such a frame as to
enable the user to spin it around. He did. It displayed the back of his head.
"That's perfect!" With a laugh, he straightened the cowlick at the rear of his
skull. "Trust Greystein to find something like thisтАж"
He napped through the rest of his break, awoke to the computer's beep,
and Flung forty-eight more loads in the next four hours. At 10 p.m. he was
done. He tucked the mirror under his arm, and Flung himself home.
Greystein was already there, stretched out on the couch with a beer mug in
his hand. "Gina, Sam, and the plant are out on the terrace."
"Are you okay?"
Greystein scowled. "I have a headache, a bad one." He hoisted the mug.
"Maybe this'll help."
"Until you wake up in the morning." He crossed the room and pushed the
gliding door back on its rollers. Manhattan shone like a tiara. The night
breeze ruffled his hair. "Hi, everybody."
Maccari hugged him hard, lingering on the release. "I'm sorry, reallyтАФI
have to go. But I programmed Oscar for dinner. Teriyaki is all right, isn't it?"
"Just fine," he said, bewildered. "ButтАФ"