"Arcady And Boris Strugatsky. Prisoners of Power" - читать интересную книгу автора

his name was?"
"Mac Sim."
"Mac Sim," repeated the prosecutor. "Ah, that mountaineer spy. I
remember. Yes, there was a strange story about him. He was shot, but it
didn't finish him off."
"Apparently not."
"A man of unusual strength. Yes, there was a report on him, Why do you
need him?"
"The man is a mutant," replied Strannik. "He has interesting mentograms
and I need him for my work."
"Are you planning to dissect him?"
"Possibly. My people spotted him a long time ago, when he was being
used at the Special Studio. But he escaped."
Extremely disappointed, the prosecutor stuffed his mouth with fruit.
"All right. By the way, how are things going?"
"Splendidly, as usual. I hear the same about you. You really did a job
on Puppet. My congratulations. So, when do I get my Mac?"
"I'll send a dispatch tomorrow. He'll be delivered to you in five to
seven days."
"Gratis?"
"Well, my friend, what do you have to interest me?"
"The very first protective helmet."
The prosecutor laughed.
"And the World Light in the bargain," he said. "By the way, keep this
in mind: it's not your first helmet I need. I need the only one.
Incidentally, is it true that your bunch was assigned to develop a
directional radiation emitter?"
"Maybe,'" replied Strannik.
"Listen, what the hell do we need it for? We have enough problems
without it. You could sit on it, couldn't you?"
Strannik grinned. "Are you afraid. Smart?"
"Yes, I am. Aren't you? Or maybe you think your great friend ship with
the Count will last forever? He'll do you in with your own emitter."
Strannik grinned again. "You win. It's a deal." He rose. "I'm on my way
to Chancellor. Any message for him?"
"Chancellor is angry with me," said the prosecutor. "It's damned
unpleasant for me."
"All right. I'll tell him that."
"Joking aside, if you could put in a word for me..."
"You're a clever chap," said Strannik, parodying Chancellor. "I'll
try."
"Is he at least satisfied with the trial?"
"How should I know? I just got here."
"Try to find out. And about your - what's his name? Give it to me
again, I'll make a note of it."
"Mac Sim."
"Fine. I'll take care of it tomorrow."
"Good luck," said Strannik, and he left.
The prosecutor frowned as he watched him disappear through the door.
"Yes, one can only envy a man like that. He really has it made. Our defense