"Chalker, Jack L - G.O.D. Inc 3 - The Maze in the Mirror" - читать интересную книгу автора (Chalker Jack L)

less costly assault on this place. They sure as hell knew where it was and maybe
even set Bond up to get here. How else can you explain the pick-up cars around
here in bad weather in the middle of winter? No, the odds are they're still
here, someplace. And while the bunch of 'em might sneak out over a long period
in various stations, the odds of them getting a five-year-old kid through are
pretty slim with our system."
"They seem pretty good at beating our system," Prang noted.
"Maybe, but they either didn't know or they forgot one thing. Dash is unique,
genetically and otherwise. This is the only parallel Earth where Brandy and I
even got married and we checked, remember? The only one. So Dash is one of the
rarest of all individuals-a kid with no doubles, no duplicates. His genetic
markers are unique. They put him through the Labyrinth and they're gonna get
flagged."
Prang thought about it. "I hate to say this, old friend, and I hope you do not
take offense, but have you considered that they might do away with him?"
"I thought about it, but it doesn't make sense, at least for now. They didn't
take him for revenge, they took him for insurance. You don't burn your insurance
policy, you stash it in a safe and secure place and make sure it's readily
available and all in good order. No, he's alive, probably pretty pissed off,
somewhere on this Earth. And he'll stay that way as long as he serves their
purpose. In fact, I would say he's not just insurance, he's a bargaining chip.
You heard them-they want me for some reason. Want me enough to blow cover on a
world they apparently control."
Prang nodded. "That's probably true. Still, even if they keep him here this
world is a big and heavily populated place. People vanish all the time never to
be seen or heard from again, and with far less resources or resolve than these.
Still, we will start the worldwide search at once."
He sighed, then continued. "We haven't traced where the dead men come from as
yet, by the way, but we're narrowing the possibilities. We've also shipped a
couple to pathology because of Bond's comment on their being slaves to some new
and even more horrible drug. I already have a suspicion as to what it might be,
though, or what it might be derived from."
Sam's eyebrows went up. "Oh?"
"Most people couldn't break free of the old one. Even if they could be
physically purged they would go mad without it or without something that
dampened the internal biochemistry so it didn't go wild when the organism lost
control. The attempt was to find a substance that could be easily and cheaply
manufactured, could not be transferred like the original drug to others, and yet
would provide what was needed should we take them off the old organic drug. That
proved easier to do than we'd expected. It's quite simple to design a drug and
tailor it to whatever characteristics you want. It's all a matter of
biochemistry, nothing more, but it would allow the victims to retake their
places in a more normal society and clear our own medical wards and the retreat
world where we'd exiled so many."
Sam nodded. "Like methadone that's used here to allow heroin addicts to get
normal lives."
"Yes, I'm familiar with that one. Of course, you remain addicted and you must
have your dosage, so you're still on a string, and, in fact, it still produces
many of the pleasure center effects of the original, but it's cheap and not
communicable, as it were."