"A. R. Yngve - Parry's Protocol" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yngve A. R)

smartest ones? When they found out who sat in City Hall, they ended up in the
Institute!"

(Canned laughter)

"For our dear nutcases we will now play "They're Coming To Take Me Away, Ha-
Ha!"

A monotonous, bizarre tune followed; the refrain was sung by a hysteric falsetto
backed up by a stomping, tambourine-clapping beat, and a siren wailed in the
background:

"They're coming to take me away, ha-ha
They're coming to take me away, ho-ho, hi-hi, ha-ha..."

In the middle of the song, Lemercier's cell-phone started to beep inside his jacket;
he switched off the radio. He pulled out the handset-shaped box and held it to his
right ear, pressing the receiving button.

"Hello?"

A soft female computer-voice answered: "Incoming call from Langley. Use de-
scrambling program number four."

Abram got a tauter, more alert expression around his mouth and eyes. With his
eyes still on the road ahead, he pressed a button on the phone with his right hand
middle finger.

A nasal, but deep Southern drawl came from the receiver: "Eh-bram? It's Wilson!
How's the weather up there?"

Abram smiled briefly and relaxed a little.

"Hi, Ned! Unfortunately it's too foggy for me to see what kinda weather it is
outside. Will you request a report?"

"Ha ha... nah, that can wait until you've reached Westmoreham. Y'know, it's the
new policy of the Company to create a spirit of mutual understanding and easy
communication between chiefs and employees, by scheduling time for more
informal exchange... like, letting off steam."
The words sounded rehearsed, or ironically read from a script. Ned's tone went to
the painstakingly casual.

"So, how is it, Abram? Is everything okay?"

Abram's face went taut again, and his brow wrinkled up to his scalp.

"I'm fine," he said mutely. "Last health check was in August, and the doctors
found no problems."