Star Corps. Ian Douglas

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СКАЧАТЬ Highland Park and Waukegan had merged, becoming the nucleus of the new metropolis. The lake itself was all but dead now, but construction had begun extending out over the water almost as soon as the radiation there dropped to reasonable levels.

      The PanTerra Building, with its distinctive black panther logo perched high atop the revolving dome that housed its executive suites, had foundations sunk deep within the bedrock beneath what once had been open water. The PanTerra Plaza consisted of open grounds and pavement immediately in front of the main entrance, centered on a towering water fountain symbolizing the Spirit of Chicago.

      The demonstration was well under way by the time Norris approached the building. All traffic—ground and air—had been blocked from the Highland Park district as far south as Central and as far west as Sheridan, and the slide-ways had been turned off. He had to park his flier at a port garage near Central Park and walk five blocks through streets packed with thronging mobs. When he saw how packed the plaza was, he turned away and found an entranceway to the transit levels. Most of the major buildings in New Chicago were connected by floater tubes beneath the ground level.

      An elevator took Norris from the PanTerra Building’s transit access bay to the lobby. A separate elevator, one with a security check panel that tasted the DNA on his palm and electronically probed his briefcase and his clothing, took him then to the 540th floor, so far above the demonstration that the mobs simply vanished into the geometrical intricacies of street, building, and plaza.

      Allyn Buckner met him in another lobby, this one with soaring, curving walls that were either completely transparent or remarkably large and seamlessly joined viewall panels. The PanTerran panther hung above the entrance to the conference center, ten meters high, muscles rippling in realistically animated holography.

      “Mr. Norris,” Buckner said, extending a hand. He was a thin, acid-looking man with an insincere smile, one of the small army of PanTerran vice presidents whom Norris had dealt with in the past. “Thank you for coming in person.”

      “Not a problem, Mr. Buckner,” Norris replied. “You never know who’s got access to your VR link codes. I prefer face-to-face.”

      “Indeed. We can guarantee the security of our conversation here. This way, please?”

      Norris jerked his head to the side, indicating the crowds far below. “So, what the hell is that all about?”

      “War, Mr. Norris,” Buckner said as he led Norris beneath the giant panther and into the conference suite. “There is going to be a war very soon now. The first war, I might add, to be fought across interstellar distances.”

      “Llalande?”

      “Of course. The people are quite upset over the, um, slavery issue.”

      “There was a pretty sizable pro-An contingent down there too.”

      “Religious nuts, Mr. Norris. The lunatic fringe. The people are demanding that the human slaves on Ishtar be freed.”

      That, Norris thought, was something of an oversimplification. The number of separate factions on Earth clashing over the issue of contact with the An and the sociopolitical situation on distant Ishtar was simply incalculable. True, the loudest voices right now were those of outrage over the discovery of the Exiles—descendants of humans taken from Mesopotamia thousands of years ago and transplanted to the An world as a slave population. But there were other voices as well. The entire Islamic block wanted all dealings with the An halted … and an end to archeological research both on Earth and off-world that tended to relegate humankind to a less-than-glorious set of beginnings. That was what the fighting right now in Egypt was all about. And then there were the countless religions, cults, and movements worldwide that viewed the An as gods, figuratively or even literally.

      But there were also groups who saw considerable profit in closer ties with the An. Most of the major megacorporations of Earth were vying now for the technological spin-offs coming out of the xenoresearch off-world.

      And of course that was where the real power lay, Norris thought … not with the “people,” but with the multitrillion-newdollar corporate entities who truly controlled the planet.

      Inside the conference suite, Buckner guided Norris to a carpeted, soundproofed room with an elaborate array of viewalls, link centers, and screens. “Computer,” Buckner said, addressing the air. “Security, level one.”

      “Security, level one initiated, Mr. Buckner,” a female voice replied. “Do you require a record?”

      “No. Switch off.”

      “Switching off, Mr. Buckner.”

      “I don’t even like the AIs listening in to some of this,” Buckner explained. “What we’re on to here is so fantastic—”

      “Are you sure the mikes and recorders are really off?”

      “Of course. The software was developed in this very building. Have a seat.”

      Norris sank into the embrace of a chair that molded itself to his back and shoulders. “So, I gather you have another assignment for me.”

      “We do.” Buckner took a seat opposite his. “A very important one. A lucrative one.”

      “You’ve got my attention, Mr. Buckner.”

      “We have been scanning our personnel records for a particular person. You were the first of the troubleshooters on our list. And the best, I might add. You have all of the qualities we are looking for—young, dynamic, ambitious. No family to speak of, no long-term commitments or contracts. Not even any casual lovers.”

      Norris raised an eyebrow. They didn’t know about Claire, evidently. Good. “What’s your point?”

      “We need a liaison, Mr. Norris, on a very, very special operation.”

      “What kind of operation?”

      “You’ll be fully briefed later, if you accept.”

      “How can I accept if I don’t know what it is?”

      Buckner smiled, an oily tug at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, we may be able to offer suitable inducements.”

      “Such as?”

      “We are offering you a long-term contract. A very long-term contract, in fact. Minimum time—twenty years.”

      Norris’s eyes widened. “Is that a business proposition or a prison term?”

      “A little of both, I fear. If you accept, you won’t be able to terminate. Not … conveniently, at any rate.”

      A twenty-year contract? Buckner must be out of his mind. “This doesn’t exactly sound like a promotion, Mr. Buckner. What are the inducements you mentioned?”

      “A nice, round figure, Mr. Norris. One billion newdollars, and a shot at senior management, when you return. Perhaps even a seat on the board.”

      “One billion!.” Norris hung on the shock for a comic moment, mouth gaping. “One billion?” Then he heard the rest of Buckner’s sentence. “What do you mean, when I return? Where are you sending me?” He already knew he was going, wherever it was. A billion newdollars? Was СКАЧАТЬ