"Norman Spinrad - Triceratops" - читать интересную книгу автора (Spinrad Norman)

formed the face of the Secretariat, scintillated intermittently across 'the glass monolith as I
set the jumper to circling the building. When we came around to the western face, the great glass
facade was a curtain of orange fire.
"The Secretariat could be set in your gardens so as to catch both the sunrise and sunset,
Mr. Ito," I pointed out. "It's considered one of the finest examples of Twentieth-Century
Utilitarian in the world, and you'll note that it's in excellent repair."
Ito said nothing. His eyes did not so much as flicker. Even the muscles of his face seemed
unnaturally wooden. The jumper passed behind the Secretariat again, which eclipsed both the sun
and its giant reflection; below us was the sweeping gray concrete roof of the General Assembly.
"And of course, the historic significance of the U.N. buildings is beyond measure, if
somewhat tragic-"
Abruptly, Mr. Ito interrupted, in a cold, clipped voice. "Please forgive my crudity in
interjecting a political opinion into this situation, Mr. Harris, but I believe such frankness
will save you much wasted time and effort and myself considerable discomfort."
All at once, he was Shiburo Ito of Ito Freight Boosters of Osaka, a mover and shaper of
the economy of the most powerful nation on Earth, and he was letting me know it. "I fully respect
your sentimental esteem for the late United Nations, but it is a sentiment I do not share. I
remind you that the United
Nations was born as an alliance of the nations which humiliated Japan in a most unfortunate war,
and expired as a shrill and contentious assembly of pauperized beggar-states united only in the
dishonorable determination to extract international alms from more progressive, advanced, self-
sustaining, and virtuous states, chief among them Japan. I must therefore regretfully point out
that the sight of these buildings fills me with nothing but disgust, though they may have a
certain intrinsic beauty as abstract objects."
His face had become a shiny mask and he seemed a million miles away. He had come as close
to outright anger as I had ever heard one of these heavyweight Japs get; he must be really
steaming inside. Damn it, how was I supposed to know that the U.N. had all those awful political
meanings for him? As far as I've ever heard, the U.N. hasn't meant anything to anyone for years,
except an idealistic, sappy idea that got taken over by Third Wonders and went broke. Just my
rotten luck to run into one of the few people in the world who were still fighting that one!
"You are no doubt fatigued, Mr. Harris," Ito said coldly. "I shall trouble you no longer.
It would be best to return to your office now. Should you have further objects to show me, we can
arrange another appointment at some mutually convenient time."
What could I say to that? I had offended him deeply, and besides I couldn't think of
anything else to show him. I took the jumper to five hundred and headed downtown over the river at
a slow hundred miles per hour, hoping against hope that I'd somehow think of something to salvage
this blown million-yen deal with before we reached my office and I lost this giant goldfish
forever.

As we headed downtown, Ito stared impassively out the bubble at the bleak ranks of high-
rise apartment buildings that lined the Manhattan shore below us, not deigning to speak or take
further notice of my miser

able existence. The deep orange light streaming in through the bubble turned his round face into a
rising sun, straight off the Japanese flag. It seemed appropriate. The crazy bastard was just like


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