"Foster, Alan Dean - Humanx 5 - Sentenced To Prism" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

research and exploration that any other company that wants to go into Prism will
have to pay for the use of our knowledge, if only because it'll be cheaper than
starting from scratch themselves. That goes for the government and the Church as
well."
"And if we're found out?"
Machoka shrugged. "If by a competitor, we lose a great deal of money. If by the
government or the Church, we may lose our freedom. Looked at from any angle,
Prism is a great risk."
"Risks hold fascination. Prism sounds fascinating to me, not risky."
"Your confidence again. May it stand you in good stead. Then you accept?"
"Of course I accept. Did you think I might refuse? I've never turned down a
company assignment yet."
"They told me this was how you'd react. I know about your attitude."
"There's nothing wrong with my attitude," Evan replied defensively.
"No? I was told that you're arrogant as hell."
"I am not arrogant. Just confident of my abilities."
"Well, that's what's needed here."
"I've already handled more than a thousand theoretical off‑world problems during
the development of the Avilla software. I doubt that there's anything on Prism
that I haven't already dealt with in theory if not in practice. I'm sure I'll be
able to isolate the problem and compose a solution for it."
"I hope so too, Orgell. I hope that this world doesn't present you with that
thousand‑and‑first problem, the one you haven't had to deal with yet."
Evan found he was growing impatient. If Machoka was trying to scare him he was
failing. "Don't we know anything about this world except that it's 'different'?"

"Certainly. The usual predevelopment basic information. I am told that the
climate is agreeable, the air palatable, and that there are no native diseases
that can affect us. Not germ‑based, anyway. Of course, research is still in its
infancy, but from everything that's come through so far the place sounds like an
exotic paradise. This may turn out to be a holiday for you."
Sure, Evan thought. Except that the holiday‑goers who'd preceded him to Prism
weren't communicating with anyone anymore. He rubbed absently where the Spanset
had stung him. The unexpectedness of the jolt had shocked him more than anything
else, but still‑what if that was just a sample of the defensive mechanisms
employed by the local lifeforms?
"I wish I could tell you more, but you'll be given all the information you'll
need to carry out your mission. After all, you're not going to be thrashing
around the planet's surface. That's what the specialists at flee station are
there for. You're really going to be a glorified courier though I'm hoping
you'll be able to solve the problem by yourself and save the company some time
and money.'
"I'll certainly do my best, sir."
"Yes, that's what the reports all say. Don't let it give you a swelled head."
"Not unless the atmosphere there is lighter than you're telling me."
"So you do have a sense of humor. Good. You'll have help right up until
drop‑cuff time. Don't hesitate to ask for
anything you need. We'll give you proper cover. You're traveling first‑class to
an important interworld conference on genetics. Better bone up on your Mendelian
mantras in case you have to sound professional. If you need anything from the
company library..."