"Sean Williams - Metak Fatigue" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Sean)

maintenance roads provided the only relatively uninterrupted stretches of
tarmac in the city, apart from radial freeways pointing the four directions of
the compass.
Following the War and the enclosure of the city, private vehicle ownership had
been banned and use of the Rosette rationalised. New outer sections, once
intended as complete additions to the original ring structure, had been turned
into loops connecting the inner rings with more distant sites, thus allowing
commuters access to their workplaces. Little-used segments had been shut down
completely, their reaction plates and control systems cannibalised to repair
others. The only vehicles allowed on the roads were those performing the work
of the Mayoralty.
The streets were, therefore, empty for the most part, maintained irregularly,
and ill-lit at night. Rusting hulks left over from the old days had long since
been recycled, but there were still plenty of other hazards. Where tarmac had
crumbled, a new surface compounded from old rubber tyres filled the gaps.
Traffic lights no longer worked at all. The motorist's only advantage lay in
the assumption that all wheeled traffic was important, and therefore had right
of way.
Roads, accordingly, drove as though he was the only person on the road. The
harbour lay to the south of the city, with Old North Street perversely to the
south-west, in an area that had fallen into disrepair after the deactivation
of the nearest segment of the Rosette. Following maintenance roads along j
loop back to G ring, he pushed the patrol car's small electric motor to its
limit, growling around bends and accelerating across intersections without
even pausing.
Along a relatively straight stretch, Roads fumbled with one hand inside his
coat and handed her the data fiche. "We'll have to decide what to do about
this later," he said. "Until then, keep it safe for me." "Will do, boss." She
tucked it into the breast pocket of her shirt. The sharp edges of the card
nagged at her. Accepting help from a known felon smacked of corruption, and
contradicted everything she thought she knew about her partner. "You really
surprised me tonight," she said.
He glanced at her, then back to the road. "What do you mean. "Come on, Phil."
She studied his face closely in the dashlight. "When the hell did you start
dealing with Keith Morrow?" "A long time ago," he said, his expression fixed.
"But it's not as bad as it looks."
ou sure) For someone who swears he's not y oked, you keep the damnedest
friends." is that what's bothering you?" "Well, you've got me worried, I'll
admit." "Don't be," he said. "I haven't spoken to him for ahnost twenty years,
until tonight."
But you did deal with him?" "In a way. We helped each other out, once." He
-.shrugged. ':It's a long story, and not particularly :1@-levant."
She wanted to believe him - and did for the most part but the question had to
be asked. He was so much a
part of her life that the very thought of him betraying her made her stomach
turn. "Promise me you're telling the truth," she said. "Easy," lie said, and
smiled. "You've never met a
hter cop." straig F
Her doubts ebbed at that. They had been partners for .1ong enough to know when
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