"Allen Steele - Orbital Decay" - читать интересную книгу автора (Steele Allen)

We copy, Weatherman. Please monitor.

John touched buttons on his console and immediately all three men heard
new voices in their earphones--a conversation between two men, as clear

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as if they had picked up an extension phone in one of their houses:

. . . I 'm telling you, he 's no damn good. We should have never
elected him, never believed a word he said. It was all campaign
bullshit, all the time. Now the bastard's sending troops to Central
America and you can bet Stevie's one of them.

Yeah, A-right. I told Stevie she shoulda split to Canada....

Canada's just catching 'em and shippin' 'em back to the States.

Doesn't do any damn good to run from the draft now. I'm telling ya,
Jeff, the only way to stop that crazy fucker is to kill him before he
gets us further into this mess....

A thread of print appeared on their screens: SAN DIEGO, CA. MAX A.

HILLMAN 2206 OCEANSIDE 6198750646; SAN DIEGO, CA. ROBERT P. ROSE
1117

PALMETTO 6190324201.

"Big Dog, Weatherman," Bob said into his mike. "Intercepted telephone
conversation in San Diego. Possible discussion of Presidential
assassination. Location and identities verified." He glanced over his
shoulder at Dave; Dave nodded back. "Conversation recorded."

Roger, Weatherman. Data received. Monitor second possible, please.

John cut off the first conversation, touched buttons that brought the
second phone call Big Ear had netted into their earphones.

A child's squeaky voice; it could have belonged to either a boy or a
girl, no more than six or seven years old: So my daddy says there could
be a nukey born' put in, put in a big city, y'know, an ' if someone
wanted to call the Pres dent and say you gimme a hunnert zillion
dollars or I'll blow it up and kill everybody and the Pres'dent would
have to say okay 'cause if he din't all those people would get kilt and
he wouldn't get re'lected....

Another child's voice: Yeah, yeah! But y 'know, y 'know, y 'know