"Michael Swanwick - Bones of the Earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swanwick Michael)

his sleeve to reveal a thick stainless steel watch. He clamped his hand over it, hiding the dial completely.
Then he glanced down at the back of his hand.
He didn't release the watch until he had looked away.
Leyster had found his opening. Prodding gently, he said, "So far, you haven't made much of a case."
"It gets worse," Griffin said. So he had a sense of humor! Astonishing. "There are restrictions. You
won't be allowed to publish. Oh, findings based on your own fieldwork, of course" -- he waved a
dismissive hand at the HDTV screen -- "that sort of stuff you may publish whenever. Provided it is first
cleared by an internal committee to ensure you're not taking advantage of information gained while
working for us. Further, you won't even be allowed to talk about your work with us. It will be classified.
We'll need your permission to have the FBI run a security check on you. Strictly routine. I assure you, it
will turn up nothing embarrassing."
"A security check? For paleontology? What the hell are you talking about?
"I should also mention that there is a serious possibility of violent death."
"Violent death. This is going to start making sense any minute now, right?"
"A man comes into your office" -- Griffin leaned forward conspiratorially -- "and suggests that he has
a very special job to offer you. By its very nature he can't tell you much about it until you've committed
yourself heart and soul. But he suggests -- hints, rather -- that it's your chance to be a part of the greatest
scientific adventure since Darwin's voyage on H.M.S. Beagle. What would you think?"
"Well, he'd certainly have my interest."
"If it were true," Griffin said with heavy irony.
"Yes," Leyster agreed. "If it were true."
Griffin smiled. On his coarse-featured face, it looked sad. "Well, then, I believe I've told you all you
need to know."
Leyster waited, but he said no more.
"Forgive me for saying so, but this is the damnedest pitch I've ever heard in my life. You haven't said
one thing to make your offer attractive to me -- quite the opposite. You say that I'll need FBI clearance,
that I won't be allowed to publish, that I might... Frankly, I can't think of a set of arguments that would be
less conducive to my coming to work for you."
There was an amused glint in Griffin's eye, as if Leyster's reaction were precisely what he had been
hoping to provoke.
Or was this only what he wanted Leyster to think?
No, that was a paranoid line of reasoning. It was not the way Leyster normally thought, not the way he


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 Michael Swanwick - Bones of the Earth

liked to think. He was accustomed to questioning an essentially impassive universe. The physical world
might be maddeningly close-lipped about its secrets, but it didn't lie, and it never actively tried to deceive
you.
Still, the corrupting influence of the man was such that it was hard not to think along such lines.
Again, Griffin clamped his hand over his watch. Glancing down at it, he said, "You'll take the position
anyway."
"And the reasoning upon which you base this extraordinary conclusion is--?"
Griffin put the cooler on Leyster's desk. "This is a gift. There's only one string attached -- you will not
show it to anyone or tell anybody about it. Beyond that--" He twisted his mouth disparagingly. "Do
whatever it takes to convince you it's genuine. Cut it open. Take it apart. There are plenty more where that
came from. But no photographs, please. Or you'll never get another one to play with again."
Then he was gone.