"Allen Steele - Agape Among The Robots" - читать интересную книгу автора (Steele Allen)

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"Are you off-line?" I asked quietly, and her eyes went wide as she lunged for the mute button.
Keith chuckled as he reached for the two-pound bag of Fritos he kept stashed beneath the
console. I glanced at Bob; he said nothing as he hunched over his screen, replaying the test on
his monitor. Fresh out of MIT, he had been working for LEC for less than five months now, and
only very recently had been assigned to the R3G program. He was wisely keeping office politics
at armтАЩs length, nor could I blame him.

Through the window, I watched Phil as he walked toward the bench where Samson stood
frozen, his right hand still extended. He glanced nervously toward the opposite side of the
atrium, then he tore a wad of paper off the roll and began hastily wiping the apple shards off
DelilahтАЩs spherical head. I had to wonder why someone on her team had felt compelled to put
her in a dress. Perhaps to accentuate her feminine role; although the test was supposed to work
out bugs in their handshaking procedures, the scenario Phil and Kathy had mutually devised
was supposed to playfully emulate a quaint, old-fashioned courtship. So far, though, the results
werenтАЩt very promising.

"Oh, such a nice man," Keith said, propping his sandals up on his console as he shoved a fistful
of chips in his mouth. "Look, heтАЩs cleaning . . . uh-oh, here she comes."

From behind him, Dr. Katherine "Darth" Veder came stalking through the trees, her hands
shoved in the pockets of her lab coat. Even before he saw her, Phil must have heard her
coming, for he fumbled with the roll in his hands as he reluctantly turned to face her.

"Oh, boy, is she pissed or what?" Bob murmured.

"What," I replied, and Donna arched an eyebrow knowingly.

"Dum-dum-dum-dah-de-dum-dah-de-dum," Keith hummed. "Volume, please. I donтАЩt want to
miss this."

The van was soundproofed, but we had a parabolic mike aimed at the test area. Donna started
to reach for her board to activate it. "DonтАЩt," I said quietly, shaking my head at her. "LetтАЩs let
them handle this themselves." Smiling a little, Donna withdrew her hand.

Keith sighed in disgust, then pulled on his headset and tapped a command into his console. I
had little doubt that he was patching into SamsonтАЩs external mike to eavesdrop on their
conversation, if it could be called that. Through the window, I could see Kathy yelling at Phil, her
small hands gesturing wildly as she pointed at him, at Samson, at Delilah, at our van, and back
at Phil again. Although PhilтАЩs back was half-turned to us, his hands were almost as busy, first
making gestures of supplication and apology, then briefly returning to his sidesтАУhe was probably
counting to ten againтАУbefore rising again to make irate motions of his own.

Donna rested her elbows on the console and cupped her chin in her hands. Bob picked up the
month-old issue of Spin he had placed on top of one of the mainframes. Keith pawed at his bag