"Robert Reed - Five Thrillers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reed Robert)

Five Thrillers by Robert Reed
If anyone ever questioned whether F&SF readers are a thoughtful bunch, they'd need only look at our
email correspondence from the last six weeks. тАЬYou've gone three months without a new Robert Reed
story,тАЭ writes K. V. from Seattle. тАЬDid he fall during one of his running competitions and break his writing
hand?тАЭ M. L. from Toronto more bluntly said, тАЬI want more Reed!тАЭ while a joker we shall not name said,
тАЬDid you finally get your hands on those photos Bob Reed was using to blackmail you into publishing his
stories?тАЭ Worry not, you thoughtful readersтАФrather than spending his days polishing his new Hugo
Award, Mr. Reed has been filling our inventory with several new tales, of which we now bring you five of
the most thrilling of тАШem.
****
I. The Ill-Fated Mission
Their situation was dire. A chunk of primordial iron had slashed its way through the Demon Dandy,
crippling the engines and pushing life support to the brink of failure. Even worse, a shotgun blast of
shrapnel had shredded one of the ship's two life-pods. The mission engineer, a glum little man who had
spent twenty years mining Earth-grazing asteroids, studied the wreckage with an expert eye. There was
no sane reason to hope that repairs could be made in time. But on the principle of keeping his staff busy,
he ordered the robots and his new assistant to continue their work on the useless pod. Then after
investing a few moments cursing God and Luck, the engineer dragged himself to the remnants of the
bridge to meet with the Dandy's beleaguered captain.

His assistant was a young fellow named Joseph Carroway.

Handsome as a digital hero, with green eyes and an abundance of curly blond hair, Joe was in his early
twenties, born to wealthy parents who had endowed their only child with the earliest crop of synthetic
human genes. He was a tall, tidy fellow, and he was a gifted athlete as graceful as any dancer, on the
Earth or in freefall. According to a dozen respected scales, Joe was also quite intelligent. With an
impressed shake of the head, the company psychiatrist had confided that his bountiful talents made him
suitable for many kinds of work. But by the same token, that supercharged brain carried certain inherent
risks.

Dipping his head in the most charming fashion, he said, тАЬRisks?"

"And I think you know what I'm talking about,тАЭ she remarked, showing a wary, somewhat flirtatious
smile.

"But I don't know,тАЭ Joe lied.

"And I believe you do,тАЭ she countered. тАЬWithout exception, Mr. Carroway, you have been telling me
exactly what I want to hear. And you're very believable, I should add. If I hadn't run the T-scan during
our interview, I might have come away believing that you are the most kind, most decent gentleman in the
world."

"But I am decent,тАЭ he argued.

Joe sounded, and looked, exceptionally earnest.

The psychiatrist laughed. A woman in her early fifties, she was an overqualified professional doing routine
tasks for a corporation larger and more powerful than most nations. The solar system was being opened
to humanityтАФhumanity in all of its forms, old and new. Her only task was to find qualified bodies to do
exceptionally dangerous work. The vagaries of this young man's psyche were factors in her assessment.