"Cory Doctorow - The Super Man and Bugout" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dodd Christina)

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tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? My rent is due _today_, Sergeant. Look, what if I comm his office?"

"Please, sir, that would be fine." The Sergeant looked relieved.

Hershie hit a speed dial and waited. A recorded voice told him that the office
was closed, the Minister at a special session.

"He's in session. Look, it's probably on his desk -- I've been coming here for
years; really, this is ridiculous."

"I'm sorry. I have my orders."

"I don't think you could stop me, Sergeant."

The Sergeant and his troops shuffled their feet. "You're probably right, sir.
But orders are orders."

"You know, Sergeant, I retired a full colonel from the Armed Forces. I _could_
order you to let me past."

"Sorry sir, no. Different chain of command."

Hershie controlled his frustration with an effort of will. "Fine then. I'll be
back tomorrow."

#

The building super wasn't pleased about the late rent. He threatened Hershie
with eviction, told him he was in violation of the lease, quoted the relevant
sections of the Tenant Protection Act from memory, then grudgingly gave in to
Hershie's pleas. Hershie had half a mind to put his costume on and let the man
see what a _real_ super was like.

But his secret identity was sacrosanct. Even in the era of Pax Aliena, the Super
Man had lots of enemies, all of whom had figured out, long before, that even the
invulnerable have weaknesses: their friends and families. It terrified him to
think of what a bitter, obsolete, grudge-bearing terrorist might do to his
mother, to Thomas, or even his old high-school girlfriends.

For his part, Thomas refused to acknowledge the risk; he'd was more worried
about the Powers That Be than mythical terrorists.

The papers the next day were full of the overnight cabinet shuffle in Ottawa.
More than half the cabinet had been relegated to the back-benches, and many of