"Steve Perry - Matador 01 - The Man Who Never Missed" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Steven)

skinmask over his face and ears and allowing the spetsdods to set on the
backs of his hands. It took a few seconds for the artificial flesh backing the
weapons to warm and mold to his own skin; once set, the spetsdods would
be almost as much a part of him as his fingers. The weapons would not shift
or move until he triggered the release.
There were a lot more efficient weapons, he knew. Hand wands sent a fan-
shaped pulse which could take half a dozen people out at a single strobe;
explosive rocket or bullet throwers could blow through armor which would
stop a spetsdod's flechette; implosion bombs wiped away steel as if it were
butter. But it had to be spetsdods. The choice had not been a hard one.
Spetsdods were used by the military sometimes, but they were essentially
civilian weapons, so that was a necessity. And a Spasm-loaded dart slinger
did not kill, that was another point. Finally, a spetsdod required skill to use
properly, more than wands or explosive guns or bombs. A man who went
after targets in class two armor with a spetsdod was either very good or a
fool. A miss and he would likely be dead. That part was as important as any
of it, the skill needed. If it was going to be built to work, it had to be built
right. He'd had years to think about it and the spetsdod was the right
answer. It had taken him more years to become truly expert in the use of the
flechette weapon. There were some better, perhaps, but that didn't matter.
He was good enough. He had been so far, at least.
The spetsdods were ready. He found a set of spookeyes and slipped them
on, pushed back on his forehead. He took a sublingual tablet and allowed it
to dissolve under his tongue. The chemical had a long and complex name,
but it was called Reflex by those who used it. It affected nerves, from
peripheral to central nervous system, and its effect was simple enough: the
drug speeded up reaction time. The effect varied from person to person, but
in Khadaji's case, he was able to move faster than a bacteria-augmented
soldier-of-the-line, for short periods. There were some nasty drawbacks to
ReflexтАФit required top physical conditioning to handle because it increased
catabolism and metabolism and left the user exhausted afterward; it caused
nightmares; it was addictive. Khadaji only used it when he was doing a
particularly risky gambit. He would pay for it later.
He checked the skinmask in the mirror, took his con-founder from the box
and snapped it into place on his belt. He took a deep breath and nodded at
his image. There was one last item: a photon flare. He hooked it onto his belt.
He was ready.
His shoulders brushed the flexmac lining the walls of the tunnel as he
crawled through it. Carefully, he lifted the matched pad covering the tunnel
mouth and moved the expanded metal grate inside the transformer station. It
was black inside the cover, with only a thin pattern of streetlight showing
through the cooling slots next to the radiant fins over his head. He slid the
spookeyes down and clicked them on. The place lit up, in that eerie green of
multiply-augmented light. He replaced the pad and grate and stood quietly,
listening.
The first rush of Reflex vibrated through him, making him feel warm and
slightly itchy. He wanted to move, to run and dance and jumpтАФthat was the
drug singing to him, urging him to use his body, to do somethingтАФ
anythingтАФ fast and hard. But he held still, listening. After a moment, he
moved to a slot in the door of the unit and peeped through it into the alley.