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.The late arrival stood at the bottom of the plane’s ramp and extended his hand in greeting to thestocky older man in uniform who emerged from the jet.“Good afternoon, General.Welcome toTelemorphix.My name is Owen Tanabe.Mister Wells is waiting for you.”“I know that.I just spoke to him.” The uniformed man ignored Tanabe’s outstretched hand andheaded toward the elevator doors, forcing him to turn and hurry to catch up with him.“You’ve been here before, I take it?” he asked the general.“Been here when this was just a hole in the ground and a bunch of blueprints, and a couple oftimes since.” He punched at the elevator buttons with a stubby finger.“What’s the damn thingwaiting for?”“Authorization.” Tanabe ran his fingers over the array of buttons, a smooth, practiced movementlike someone reading braille.“Down,” he said.The elevator door closed and the car droppednoiselessly.The young Japanese-American man’s further attempts at sociability were ignored.When theelevator door opened again, Tanabe gestured to the deeply carpeted room and its deeplycushioned furniture.“Mister Wells asks that you go in and wait.He’ll be with you in a moment.May I bring you anything?”“No.Is he going to be long?”“I very much doubt it.”“Then you might as well get on your horse.”Tanabe shrugged gracefully and smiled.“Up.” The door closed.General Yacoubian had lit a cigar, and was squinting with outraged suspicion at a piece ofmodern art – multicolored electrosensitive gases housed in a clear plastic shell made from adeath-cast of an accident victim – when the door behind the desk hissed open.“Those aren’t very good for you, you know.”Yacoubian turned his look of disapproval from the sculpture to the speaker, a slender, whitehaired man with a lined face.The newcomer wore a rumpled antique sweater and slacks.“JesusSamuel Christ,” the general said, “are you going to start that stop-smoking shit all over again?What the hell do you know about it?”“I must know something,” Wells said mildly.“After all, I’m a hundred and eleven years old nextmonth.” He smiled.“Actually, it makes me tired just considering it.I think I’ll sit down.”“Don’t get comfortable.We need to talk.”Wells raised an eyebrow.“So talk.”“Not here.No offense, but there are certain things I don’t want to talk about within a half-mileof any kind of listening or recording devices, and the only place that’s got more of them persquare inch than this gear-farm of yours is the Washington embassy of whatever Third WorldCountry we’re deciding to blow the shit out of this week.”Wells smiled, but it was a little chilly.“Are you saying that you don’t think I can talk securely inmy own office? Do you really think anybody could penetrate Telemorphix? I’ve got gear thateven the government can only dream about.Or are you trying to say that you don’t trust me,Daniel?”“I’m saying I don’t trust anybody with this – you, me, or anyone who might ever work for us.Idon’t trust TMX and I don’t trust the U.S.Government, the Air Force, or the Emporia, Kansas,chapter of the Boy Scouts of America.Got it? Don’t take it too personally.” He took the cigarfrom his mouth and regarded the wet, chewed end with distracted annoyance, then replaced itand sucked until the other end was glowing red.Wells frowned at the cloud of thick smokegenerated but said nothing.“Now, here’s my suggestion.We can be in Portland in half an hour.Idon’t trust a conversation on my plane either, if that makes you feel any better, so we’ll talkabout the weather until we’re back on the ground.You pick the part of town, I’ll pick arestaurant in it.That way, we know neither of us is running a setup.”Wells frowned.“Daniel, this is.very surprising.Are you sure all this is necessary?”Yacoubian grimaced.He removed his cigar, then ground it out in an Art Deco ashtray that wasbeing used for its original purpose for the first time in at least half a century.His host’s flinch didnot go unnoticed.“No, Bob, I flew all the way here just because I thought you weren’t gettingenough protein in your diet.Damn it, man, I’m telling you, we need to talk.Bring along a coupleof your security boys.We’ll send ’em in with mine to make sure wherever we pick is clean.”“We’re just going to sit there? With.with the customers?”The general laughed.“Jesus, that scares you, huh? No, we’ll clear ’em out.We can pay theowners enough to make it worth their while [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]