"Walter Jon Williams - Metropolitan - 02 - City On Fire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Walter John)

Through the embrace Aiah can feel Constantine's weight shifting slightly, a sign of restlessness. He is not a notably patient man. She releases him, steps back.
Still he watches her, fierce intelligence afire within the gold-flecked brown eyes. "The police?" he says. "Were they after you?Ф
"Yes," she says, then, "No. Maybe." She shrugs. "They knew I was a part of it somehow, but I don't know if they could prove it. They had me under surveillance.Ф
"You got away without trouble?Ф
"I got away." She hesitates. "I had some help. I think. It was easier than I expected.Ф
"What of your young man? Gil?Ф
She straightens her shoulders, steels herself against the threat of sorrow.
"Over," she says.
"And your job at the Plasm Authority?Ф
"I wired them and told them I was taking time off." She shrugs. "I don't know why I didn't resign outright.Ф
There is amusement in his glance. "You are cautious, Miss Aiah. Wise of you, not to quit until you discover if you have a new job waiting.Ф
She looks at him. "And do I?Ф
"I think I have one that will suit your talents." He puts his hands in his jacket pockets and begins to prowl around the table, his restless movement an accompaniment to the uneasy movement of his thought.
"You know that the last government was worse than bad," he says. "They were corrupt beyond . . . beyond reason." He waves a big hand. "Even granted that they were thieves, that they wanted only enrichment and perquisites . . . the scope of larceny that they permitted, against their own metropolis, was irrational. The amount of plasm stolen is staggering. It constituted a vast plundering of their own power, a threat to the security of their own state of which they seemed unaware. Well." He plants a fist on the table and looks at Aiah with a defiant glare. "Well, / am not so blind, not so unaware. The theft of this most singular public resource must stop. But what force do I have to enforce any new edictsЧor even the old ones?Ф
He shrugs, adjusts the position of one of the gold ashtrays, begins to pace again. "My soldiers are not suitable to police work. The local authorities are as corrupt as their former masters, and it is hopeless to expect anything from them until years of reform have done their work. For this purpose I must build my own police force, my own power base. But the New City movement here is limited to a few intellectuals, a few discussion groupsЧI have no cadre, no organized group of followers ready to step into place. And . . ." He looks up at Aiah, eyes challenging hers, and she feels ice water flood her spine.
"You," he says. "You will build this force for me. You have found plasm thieves in the past, and in my service you were a plasm thief. I wish you to find these thieves and return their power to the service of the state.Ф
Aiah blinks at him across the table. She doesn't know whether to laugh or simply to be appalled by the suggestion.
"Metropolitan?" she asks. "Are you sure it's me you want?Ф
Cold amusement enters his glance. "Of course," he says. "Why not?Ф
"I'm a foreigner, for one thing.Ф
"That's an advantage. It means you're not part of the corrupt structure here in Caraqui.Ф
"I've never done police work.Ф
"You will have people, qualified people, to do the work for you. But I want you in charge. I need someone I can trust heading the department.Ф
"I'm twenty-five years old!" she says. "I've never run anything like this in my life.Ф
He gives her a sharp look. "You have worked within a government department concerned with plasm regulation. You know where it went right, went wrong. You studied administration at university." He assesses her with his gold-flecked eyes, then nods. "And I have faith in your abilities, even if you do not. You have never disappointed me, Miss Aiah.Ф
"I wouldn't know where to start looking for plasm thieves.Ф
Constantine bares his teeth. "Start looking in my office. My waiting room is full of people offering me bribes." He smiles. "I will give you a list.Ф
"And the SpecialsЧthe old political policeЧtheir records should be valuable. The instant the fighting was over, Sorya led a flying squad to their headquarters to seize their files. The records belong to us now, and . .." Constantine gives a feral smile. "They're very useful.Ф
Aiah's spirit sinks at the thought of Sorya, Constantine's loverЧor rather, his official lover.
"Would I have to work with Sorya?" she says. "Because..." Words fail her. "Well, I don't think she likes me.Ф
A touch of cold disdain twists Constantine's mouth. "It is in both your interests," he says, "to cooperate on this project.Ф
"Yes," patiently, "I'm sure.Ф
Constantine's restless prowling has brought him around the table again, standing next to Aiah. He picks up one of the gold ashtrays, holds it in both hands. "The government will announce an amnesty for plasm thieves," Constantine says. "A month or so. It will take at least that long for you and your team to set up operations, consolidate your files, make a few preliminary investigations. And after thatЧ" He smiles down at her, suddenly warm. "You have always exceeded my expectations, Miss Aiah. I have no reason to believe this will be different.Ф
Aiah sighs. "Yes," she says. "If that's what you want.Ф
"Gangsters, Miss Aiah," Constantine reminds. "What in Jaspeer you called the Operation. Here they are the Silver Hand, and they are a threat to us and to the New City, and they must be destroyed. Destroyed completely. And it is best to do it as soon as possible, before the Handmen make ..." He frowns. "Inroads. Inroads into the new structure.Ф
Aiah thinks of the Operation, the street captains with their stony, inhuman eyes and their utter, perfectly human greed. Their dominance was difficult to avoid; they had injured her family, and her hatred for them had burned long.
Damn Constantine for reminding her.
"I'll do it, if that's what you want," Aiah says, "but only if you want it really done.Ф
His brown eyes challenge hers. "I said destroyed. Did I not?Ф
She nods. Fists clench at her sides, nails digging into palms. "Yes," she says. "I can do that.Ф
He looks down at the gold ashtray in his hands, and her gaze follows his. His massive hands and powerful wrists have twisted the ashtray, turned it into a half-spiral of yellow metal, all without visible effort. He holds it up and smiles.
"Too malleable," he comments. "I find myself disliking the useless ostentation in this place more and more.Ф
Aiah looks at him. "I will bear that in mind, Metropolitan.Ф
A knowing smile dances about his lips. His arm flies out, and the ashtray gives a little metallic keen as it skids across the tabletop. It strikes another ashtray with a clang and knocks it to the carpet before coming to a halt, spinning lazily on the polished wood.
"I will find you an office," Constantine says. He takes her arm, guides her to the door. "We can postpone discussions of salary, and so forth, for the moment. Budgets," he smiles, "are in flux. But I will assign you an apartment here in the Palace. I want you close by.Ф
His hand is very warm on her arm. Close by, she thinks, yes.
"Congratulations on your revolution, Metropolitan," she says.
Constantine opens the door. "We have had only a change in administration," he says. "The revolution is yet to come.Ф
"Congratulations, anyway.Ф
"Thank you," he says, and smiles as she passes through the door.