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

suddenly the man screamed in pain, his face contorting in almost unbelievable
horror, his body writhing against the bonds.
Markham's thumb came off the red button and the man suddenly seemed to collapse,
sweating profusely. Sam found the whole thing unpleasant to watch, but this
bastard had been one of them who had kidnapped his son, and God knows how many
other people's kids he and his organization had hooked, or killed, or sentenced
to a fate worse than death. Besides, there wasn't a damned thing he could do
about it anyway.
"Madre Dios! Who.-what is that which you did?"
"Want me to do it again?"
"No, no!"
"There's a rule you probably know, and that is that nobody is unbreakable,"
Markham told him. "Sooner or later, everybody breaks. It's just a matter of
time. That's why so many important people with things to protect will commit
suicide or trigger self-lobotomies rather than be subjected to this. You,
unfortunately, don't have that option. Those two little beams are very
complicated devices and I must confess I don't understand how they work, but I
know what they do and how to use them. The red one somehow stimulates the pain
center directly-no intermediaries. It's quite level-sensitive, though, and now
that we've used it once the computer driving it knows just where your pain
threshold is and will keep it just a microscopic hair below your pass-out point.
I could let that thing play almost indefinitely and you'd be conscious the whole
time. Want to see?" His thumb made for the red button.
"No! Stop! You are Diablo!"
Markham smiled. "I thought you folks didn't believe in gods or devils. No, not
gods, not devils, but we are a bit, uh, other-worldly, and we've had a lot of
practice." He paused for a moment. "Now, this white button does the opposite.
Stimulates the pleasure center directly. It's the most intense high you can
possibly imagine. I'll demonstrate-if you tell me your real name. It doesn't
matter anyway, you know. This is just a quick and dirty way of getting
information. In a while, you and your friends will be put under a machine that
will read out every memory you have from your first memories inside the womb to
right now. We'll know far more about you than you. But it takes a lot of time to
sort and edit that kind of information and that can't be done best on this
world. We'd like some answers now."
"My-my name is Ramon Gloriona," the man said, not quite believing all that but
definitely remembering that intense pain. Markham sighed. "Red button," he
mumbled, and his thumb went up.
"I swear on my mother's grave that is my true name!" the man screamed with such
conviction that Markham relaxed.
"You know, I think it just might be," the security chief commented. "All right,
Ramon, we'll show you what cooperation brings." He pushed the white button, just
briefly, and the man's face and body suddenly went into contortions of sheer
ecstasy that seemed to last after Bill took his finger off and stopped it.
"The same principal as the narcotics you dump on the West, Ramon," Markham told
him, "only without all the messy chemicals and middlemen and simon-pure. Even we
have to have a computer override on the white button, because you never forget
it and you always want more." He sighed. "Sam, I think he's softened up a bit.
Want to ask your questions?"
Sam nodded, but he was feeling somewhat queasy about this even though it was