"A. R. Yngve - Argus project" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yngve A. R) The conversation that followed was, like most actions made by citizens
with high PP counts, available for public view. As the men talked, they could observe their personal hit counters go up... first slowly, then by the thousands per minute. The count reached its peak just after the Kansler mentioned the code word "Argus" in public view. Enemy agents also had open access to this information. The Kansler was fully aware of it. After all, one of the enemy were in fact standing in the same room. He nodded slightly to Boulder Pi, who had jumped into a set of artificial leg extensions he utilized to walk faster. Here on the Moon, a midget like Boulder could easily use leg extensions without motors. Boulder Pi listened in on the conversation, knowing some of the Kansler's plans from previous discussions. His chief worry was that the Kansler might succeed, but also that the plans would be structurally flawed and doomed to fail - a potential blow against Boulder's professional prestige and PP count. In much, Boulder was a man of two minds. "Boulder?" Kansler asked him. "Would you care to show the Colonel your prototype cyborg?" Boulder Pi said, in a confident tone: "Sure. On this 3-D model, you can see the working protoype for Project Argus, Model V-NICS - also called 'Venix'..." "I see," Clarke replied after a while, "but I still don't understand what you're getting at." "You will," the Kansler said, his glassy eyes glittering with excitement. Chapter 1: The Last Broken Nose file:///F|/rah/A.%20R.%20Yngve/Yngve,%20A.%20R.%20-%20Argus%20Project.txt (2 of 156) [2/2/03 11:27:07 PM] file:///F|/rah/A.%20R.%20Yngve/Yngve,%20A.%20R.%20-%20Argus%20Project.txt Several weeks later. "Gus" Thorsen was the last traditional heavyweight boxing champion, and proud of it. In the 22nd century, boxing was completely safe. On-the-spot medical aid and microscopic surgery robots had made brain injuries a thing of the past. This had also made the sport obsolete. Professional fighters could literally tear each other's limbs off without suffering pain or permanent injury; the sight of two men punching each other in the head seemed comparatively quaint. And yet, Gus Thorsen kept fighting the remaining handful of boxing challengers in fair tournaments - no promoters existed in their sport any longer, because profits were virtually nil - while supporting himself on minimum-wage jobs. When his friends asked him when he was going to quit his outmoded hobby, Gus usually smiled and tried to change subject. Truth was, he couldn't explain why he kept fighting. He had no other ambitions in life. |
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