"Robb, J D - In Death 09 - Conspriracy in Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robb J D)

[version 1.1 - March 2, 2002 - Converted to .rtf, fixed formatting, read in
detail and corrected typos.]
CONSPIRACY IN DEATH
J. D. Robb
Copyright (c) 1999
-=O=-***-=O=-
All men think all men mortal but themselves.
-- Edward Young
Let us hob-and-nob with Death.
-- Tennyson
-=O=-***-=O=-
PROLOGUE
In my hands is power. The power to heal or to destroy. To grant life or
to cause death. I revere this gift, have honed it over time to an art as
magnificent and awesome as any painting in the Louvre.
I am art, I am science. In all the ways that matter, I am God.
God must be ruthless and far-sighted. God studies his creations and
selects. The best of these creations must be cherished, protected, sustained.
Greatness rewards perfection.
Yet even the flawed have purpose.
A wise God experiments, considers, uses what comes into His hands and
forges wonders. Yes, often without mercy, often with a violence the ordinary
condemn.
We who hold power cannot be distracted by the condemnations of the
ordinary, by the petty and pitiful laws of simple men. They are blind, their
minds are closed with fear -- fear of pain, fear of death. They are too limited
to comprehend that death can be conquered.
I have nearly done so.
If my work was discovered, they, with their foolish laws and attitudes,
would damn me.
When my work is complete, they will worship me.
CHAPTER ONE
For some, death wasn't the enemy. Life was a much less merciful opponent.
For the ghosts who drifted through the nights like shadows, the funky-junkies
with their pale pink eyes, the chemi-heads with their jittery hands, life was
simply a mindless trip that circled from one fix to the next with the arcs
between a misery.
The trip itself was most often full of pain and despair, and occasionally
terror.
For the poor and displaced in the bowels of New York City in the icy dawn
of 2059, the pain, the despair, the terror were constant companions. For the
mental defectives and physically flawed who slipped through society's cracks,
the city was simply another kind of prison.
There were social programs, of course. It was, after all, an enlightened
time. So the politicians claimed, with the Liberal Party shouting for elaborate
new shelters, educational and medical facilities, training and rehabilitation
centers, without actually detailing a plan for how such programs would be
funded. The Conservative Party gleefully cut the budgets of what programs were
already in place, then made staunch speeches on the quality of life and family.
Still, shelters were available for those who qualified and could stomach