"Charles Stross - Merchant princes 01 - The Family Trade" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stross Charles)

He cleared his throat and looked them over superciliously. "I've been told to
tell you that The Industry Weatherman won't be pressing charges," he said.
"We'll clear your cubicles and forward your personal items and your final
paycheck to your addresses of record. But you're no longer allowed on the
premises." The security guard took up a position behind him, blocking the
staircase. "Please leave."
"What's going on?" Paulette demanded, her voice rising toward a squeak.
"You're both being terminated," the HR man said impassively. "Misappropriation
of company resources; specifically, sending personal e-mail on company time and
looking at pornographic Web sites."
" 'PornographicтАФ'" Miriam felt herself going faint with fury. She took half a
step toward the HR man and barely noticed Paulette grabbing her sleeve.
"It's not worth it, Miriam," Paulie warned her. "We both know it isn't true."
She glared at the HR man. "You work for Somerville Investments, don't you?"
He nodded incuriously. "Please leave. Now."
Miriam forced herself to smile. "Better brush up your r6-sume," she said shakily
and turned toward the exit.
Two-thirds of her life ago, when she was eleven, Miriam had been stung by a
hornet. It had been a bad one: Her arm had swollen up like a balloon, red and
sore and painful to touch, and the sting itself had hurt like crazy. But the
worst thing of all was the sense of moral indignation and outrage. Miriam-aged-
eleven had been minding her own business, playing in the park with her
skateboardтАФshe'd been a tomboy back then, and some would say she still wasтАФand
she hadn't done anything to provoke the angry yellow-and-black insect. It just
flew at her, wings whining angrily, landed, and before she could shake it off it
stung her.
She'd howled.
This time she was older and much more serf-sufficientтАФ college, pre-med, and her
failed marriage to Ben had given her a grounding in self-sufficiencyтАФso she
managed to say good-bye to an equally shocked Paulie and make it into her car
before she broke down. And the tears came silentlyтАФthis time. It was raining in
the car park, but she couldn't tell whether there was more water inside or
outside. They weren't tears of pain: They were tears of anger. That bastardтАФ
For a moment, Miriam fantasized about storming back in through the fire door at
the side of the building, going up to Joe Dixon's office, and pushing him out of
the big picture window. It made her feel better to think about that, but after a
few minutes she reluctantly concluded that it wouldn't solve anything. Joe had
the file. He had her computerтАФand Paulie'sтАФand a moment's thought told her that
those machines would be being wiped right now. Doubtless, server logs showing
her peeking at porn on the job would be being fabricated. She'd spoken to some
geeks at a dot-com startup once who explained just how easy it was if you wanted
to get someone dismissed. "Shit," she mumbled to herself and sniffed. "I'll have
to get another job. Shouldn't be too hard, even without a reference."
Still, she was badly shaken. Journalists didn't get fired for exposing money-
laundering scams; that was in the rules
somewhere. Wasn't it? In fact, it was completely crazy. She blinked away the
remaining angry tears. / need to go see Iris, she decided. Tomorrow would be
soon enough to start looking for a new job. Or to figure out a way to break the
story herself, if she was going to try and do it freelance. Today she needed a
shoulder to cry onтАФand a sanity check. And if there was one person who could