"Eric Frank Russell - A Great Deal of Power" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russell Eric Frank)

issue when we do get started in earnest.тАЩ
тАШI approve.тАЩ Kluge gave him back the sheet of paper. тАШYou have exercised
your imagination. I compliment you on it.тАЩ
тАШThank you, Colonel-General.тАЩ Speidel was openly gratified. He passed the
list to William Smith. тАШDeal with these.тАЩ
Pocketing the list, William Smith picked up his hat. His clear-cut features were
impassive. He might have been a young suburban husband casually going out to
post a letter.
Watching him, Wurmser said, тАШYou have all your papers and passports?тАЩ
тАШI have them.тАЩ
тАШAnd you can think?тАЩ
тАШI can think.тАЩ
тАШOn no account will you return before completion of your task?тАЩ
тАШI shall not return,тАЩ agreed William Smith evenly.
тАШAnd in a grave emergency, the last resort.. . ?тАЩ
тАШI shall press the red button which is set in my chest and thus destroy myself.тАЩ
His hand moved to his jacket.
тАШDonтАЩt touch it here,тАЩ yelped Wurmser, involuntarily backing away fast.
тАШDonтАЩt touch it at all unless there is positively no other way out.тАЩ
тАШJumpy, arenтАЩt you?тАЩ said Speidel. тАШThe red button isnтАЩt set that delicately. I
wouldnтАЩt give him ten minutes if it were. Believe me, it takes some pressing.тАЩ
тАШThat may be,тАЩ said Wurmser, тАШbut a hand like his is pretty heavy and you
canтАЩt judge his touch by yours or mine.тАЩ He shuddered, licked dry lips, said to
William Smith, тАШYou may go.тАЩ
Putting on his hat William Smith departed without a word. The trio in the
room watched in silence until the door closed behind him. A long minute later
Wurmser heaved a sigh of relief.
Kluge remarked, тАШYou can make ingenious soldiers of plastics and metals, you
and Speidel. You would not shine as soldiers yourselves.тАЩ
тАШWhat of it? The cannon-fodder days have gone.тАЩ
тАШHumph!тАЩ KlugeтАЩs air was that of one accommodating himself to a vastly
changed present while still hankering for the past. Old-style wars were easier to
handleтАФthey embodied established and familiar rules.


Newton P. Fisher heaved his ample bulk out of the limousine, puffed his hanging
chops. His slightly protruding eyes were cold as they observed the meek
well-dressed young man waiting nearby.
тАШNo comment,тАЩ he growled. тАШBeat itтАФscram!тАЩ
тАШBut, Mr Fisher, please allowтАФтАЩ
тАШAllow nothing.тАЩ Newton P. Fisher glowered at him. тАШIтАЩve been taken many a
ride by you reporters. Now itтАЩs your turn. Skip back to your garbage dump.тАЩ
тАШLook, Mr Fisher, my name is Smith, William Smith.тАЩ His words came swiftly,
trying to hold the other while something in his eyes burned steadily through. тАШIf only
you would permit me a minute of your time . . .тАЩ
тАШPawson.тАЩ Fisher turned to the blue-jawed, burly man who followed him out
of the car. тАШThis thing smells. Do something about it.тАЩ He jerked his jacket straight
with a defiant pull at the lapels, marched pompously into the building. The eyes
followed him all the way.
Folding thick arms across his big chest Pawson stared belligerently at the