"R. Garcia Y Robertson - Oxygen Rising" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robertson R Garcia Y)

blue eyes and an engaging smile, and his appearance was greeted by another round of "Praise the King!"

Bowing to his audience, the hologram winked at Ginger as he straightened up, then swung about on his
blue suede shoes, saying to Derek, "Howdy, son. Don't worry, these gals won't drill youтАФthey're just
may fan club. The pistols are only for protection."

Derek assured the holo that no one need fear him.

The King's virtual grin widened. "Pleased to hear you come in peace."

"Peace is my profession," Derek agreed cheerfully.

"So you talk to both sides?" asked the King.

"I try." Derek knew he was speaking to a sophisticated program of some sort, broadcast from deeper in
the bunkerтАФbut he was willing to talk to empty bulkheads if it would avert killing.

Turning serious, the King asked, "And do the Greenies say these folks got to go?"

Derek nodded. "At least until this area can be thoroughly searched for contraband." Code intercepts had
revealed that Pender had been working on a doomsday deviceтАФfitting his personality perfectly.

"When your search is done, will they be allowed back?" asked the virtual Elvis.

"If it were up to me, they would be." Derek could not answer for the Greenies.

"I bet it would." The King's smile broadened. "And in that case, what if I just gave you this place?"

"Give it to me?" Derek imagined he had misheard the holo.

"If I just gave it to you, the Greenies wouldn't take it away. Would they? You're pretty well in with
them?"

"Maybe," Derek admitted. Greenies ran the planet, yet were bound by the Charter of Universal Rights to
respect claims by other races. In theory, anyone who did not aid Pender was as good as a Greenie.
Whether that applied to holo-programs modeled on long-dead singers was another issue, but juries of
bioconstructs had notoriously generous notions of what was "natural."

"And would you let these people live here?" Elvis asked, as his fan club shyly lowered their pistols,
smiling to show their dimples.

"Of course, butтАж"

"Then nothing could be simpler," the King declared. "You seem a decent man, not overly scared by
women or guns."

"For one thing," Derek protested, "I don't want the responsibility."

"Of course not." Elvis laughed, shaking his dark locks. "What fool wants responsibility? Sane folks run
like hell from it. But take it from the King, sometimes you gotta face the music."