"Chalker, Jack L - G.o.d. Inc. 2 - The Shadow Dancers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Chalker Jack L)

really enjoy it. Then, at Bend, the final switch to a standard four-seat
helicopter for the ride up to McInerney, the little town in the middle of
nowheres high up in the mountains that was the main station at least for our
North America.
Considerin' how crazy this all was, and how, odds were, I was takin' my last
ride, I really just relaxed and enjoyed things and didn't think too much 'bout
the end of all this. Not that I was puttin' it outta my mind, it just wasn't
nothin' to think about. I done all that when I made the decision to take the
case.
I mean, in a way, it weren't no different than dressin' up like some whore and
goin' undercover in the bad dude's hangouts, and I done that more than once.
Either way, they catch on or somethin' don't go right and you're just as dead
whether it's some Nazi nut on some crazy other world or some small-time hood in
Philadelphia or Camden. It was true that I had more to lose this time, but I
also had more to gain. Sniffin' out some missin' girl to see if she was on some
pimp's string or findin' some runaway daddy who was hidin' out in the worst
places, the kind the cops don't go in, for twenty to fifty bucks was crazier
than doin' this for millions. No risk, no gain. I just made sure high risk was
high gain, that's all.
Sam was a lot more worried, mostly 'cause in this case he had no control. He was
strictly backup, but he was still important to me and both he and I knew it. If
it did go bad, and I could get that word out, it was his job to pull me outa
there no matter what.
McInerney was still the little town on the little road along a pass where the
railroad came through with the one lousy diner and the one small motel and the
Company's station just outside, lookin' like a cross between a railroad yard,
which it was, and lots of warehouses, which it also was. 'Cept, of course, one
of them warehouses was the station and not for trains.
And that's what the place looked like, even inside. One big, empty warehouse
with a concrete floor and lots of dirt and stains and lots of see-through
walkways and stairs of steel criss-crossin' overhead. Bill had decided not to
waste no time once we got in; he wanted to get us where we-or me, anyways-could
start work. That took a lot of high-tech prep, and the best and most secret
place to do it was at the Company headquarters-the home world. Few folks who
worked for the Company or even rode the Labyrinth all the time ever went there;
it was strictly controlled and mostly off limits. I got to admit I was always
curious about what the place looked like and what its people were like, but I
never expected to find out. Bill had been there twice before, so he at least
knew his way around a bit, but this time he wasn't bein' ordered there by the
bosses but by us. He didn't really seem to mind, which helped the nerves a
little, I guess. 'Course, he didn't have to get his mind fucked and go
undercover in that slime pit.
Bill was a nice guy, but you always got the idea that if he could get somethin'
done a little quicker by killin' you it just wouldn't enter his head to do
nothin' else but shoot you right then and there.
It's always kinda impressive to watch the Labyrinth come on, partly 'cause you
still can't figure out what it's doin' or how and it's kinda pretty. You stand
over in the safe zone of this big warehouse floor and some folks up in a control
room high and to one side throw the switches and it starts with a rumblin' under
your feet that sorta shakes the whole building, like a vibrator. Then this line