Archiwum
- Index
- James Fenimore Cooper Oak Openings (PG) (v1.0) [txt]
- James Alan Gardner [League Of Peoples 02] Commitment Hour
- James Alan Gardner [League Of Peoples 07] Radiant
- 052. Darcy Emma James Family 01 Rozbitkowie
- James Axler Deathlands 051 Rat King
- James Fenimore Cooper Jack Tier, Volume 2
- James Axler Earthblood 02 Deep Trek
- James Axler Deathlands 065 Hellbenders
- 063. James Julia Prywatna wyspa
- Cabot Meg Dziewczyna Ameryki 2 Pierwszy krok
- zanotowane.pl
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- lafemka.pev.pl
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someone on hand for accidents, emergencies and that kind of thing, you might be able to fit the bill as a
kind of corpsman. And backup is never far away these days. I think you should think about it."
Kieran sat back, rubbing his chin. The look on his face already said there was nothing to argue or
disagree with. It also said he was becoming more taken with the thought by the moment. "I'd probably
have to leave Guinness with you," he said at last. "Walter was a bit stodgy about having dogs around
when I was out there. In any case, Guinness would have to be shut up inside all the time if he went. . . . I
wonder if they'll ever make dog suits."
"That's not a problem. Patti and Grace could have him some of the time. They'd love it."
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Kieran let the proposition shuffle through his head one last time. Then he picked up his comset again,
drew out the handpiece, and called Trevany's number. "Walter," he said when Trevany answered.
"Kieran Thane again. Look, I've been thinking more about this problem of yours. There's a chance I
might be able to help after all. What kind of thing are you looking for, exactly? . . ."
2
Henry Balmer was a short, squat man with a fleshily jowled face, searing eyes set beneath immense
eyebrows, hair combed straight back, and a dark, trimmed mustache. As was often the way with small
men, he tended to overcompensate with aggressiveness what he lacked in stature. On the rare occasions
when he found himself forced onto the defensive, his shoulders hunched protectively, imbuing him in form
and manner with the salient attributes of a cannonball. Just at the moment, in Herbert Morch's office at
Quantonix, confronted by Herbert and Max, and the project's chief physician, Stewart Perrel, he felt very
much on the defensive indeed.
After Herbert Morch's call two days previously he had panicked, entrusting the bemused Sarda to the
care of his receptionist, Fay, and deciding suddenly that Mrs. Jescombe was a patient with a critical
condition who couldn't be ignored. Since then, he had gone into hiding, keeping away from his office and
ignoring Fay's frantic calls, torn between a self-preservation instinct responding to distant places
beckoning far from Mars, and a deeply rooted part of his nature that balked at the thought of walking out
on any prospect that might remain of netting a quarter of a billion Zodiac Bank-underwritten, offworld,
inner-system dollars. However, before he had reconciled his dilemma, a terse note in his mail system
from "The Auditor," suggesting pointedly that his longer-term health might benefit from his making himself
visible and condescending to communicate again, had induced his eventual appearance at Quantonix.
That was where Sarda was, and about the only chance Balmer had of placating certain netherworldly
go-betweens who weren't feeling amused just now depended on unlocking information that he hoped still
resided somewhere inside Sarda's skull.
"If Leo Sarda has been a client of yours, we should have known about it, Dr. Balmer," Herbert said,
looking disgruntled and not a little suspicious. "He's key in our main project here. You say he's been
disturbed for some time. Then possibly that's the reason for the condition we're seeing now. But the
project is being blamed. The market value of our whole program has collapsed to nothing."
Balmer forced a parody of a smile through clenched teeth, fighting down the urge to scream that if the
people at Quantonix had kept adequate tabs on the Sarda they were supposed to have been dealing
with, none of this would have happened. "A matter of professional ethics and client confidentiality. I
sympathize with your situation, but . . ." he shrugged "your internal affairs here are hardly my affair.
My obligation was to my patient."
"What kind of problems was he experiencing when he first came to you?" Stewart Perrel asked. Balmer
had cited rising apprehension about the forthcoming experiment as the root cause of Sarda's becoming
unhinged. Although not widely publicized, the nature of the TX Project was not a closely guarded secret
that Sarda would never have discussed hence, it was acceptable for Balmer to reveal that he had
known about it. And if it helped give the Quantonix people a feeling of responsibility for what had gone
wrong, then so much the better.
"Acute stress and anxiety," he answered. "Patches of memory loss with no coherent pattern. I
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interpreted it as a subconscious attempt to disown the old personality, anticipating the need to identify
with the new one. The problem was reconciling internally what he had convinced himself he believed
consciously."
"Hmm." Perrel looked perplexed. "It seems strange that none of this showed up in our tests." He was
probably also put out at Sarda's having consulted an outsider and not the project's physician. "Did you
know Leo previously, or something?"
"He was introduced by my professional partner, Elaine Corley. They had been friends for a while."
"He's never mentioned any such person to me."
"That was one of the things he'd forgotten when he appeared at my office. I attributed it to a complete
breakdown."
"So it would seem. . . . And is she helping in any of this?"
Balmer fidgeted uncomfortably. "I, er, haven't heard from her for two days. She doesn't return calls."
"Strange," Perrel commented. He shook his head, seemingly not knowing what to make of it.
Balmer shrugged. "She was a highly strung woman under a lot of stress, if you want my opinion. A lot of
this Sarda business was affecting her too. She'd been acting erratically in a number of ways. I can't say
I'm totally surprised."
Herbert Morch began, "This is all very well, but the main " then stopped as a commotion of rising
voices culminating in protests from his secretary came from the outer office. Moments later, Sarda burst
in, bulging-eyed and purple-faced. He glared around the room for a second, and then leaped at Balmer,
seizing him by the lapels with both hands. "It was a trick!" he shouted. "The whole thing was a setup!
Where is it? You'll tell me, Balmer, or I'll wring your neck!"
Perrel stepped forward to separate them, while Herbert jumped up and came around the desk. Delia,
Herbert's secretary, watched helplessly from the doorway. "Get Sam Eason up here," Herbert called to
Max. Max nodded, white-faced, and pulled out his comset.
"He's mad! Get him off!" Balmer yelled.
Herbert and Perrel pulled at Sarda's arms. "Let go of him, Leo!" Herbert barked. They dragged Sarda
off, but he lunged back again as soon as they loosened their grip. Herbert forced himself between Sarda
and Balmer, planting both hands restrainingly on Sarda's chest. "What are you raving about, Leo? What's
gone?"
Sarda pointed an accusing finger over Herbert's shoulder. "The five million advance money that I
banked! He knew about it! It's gone! He got the codes out of me while I was under. That's what it was
all about!"
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