"Ron Goulart - A Talent For The Invisible" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goulart Ron)

 "I remember seeing it on the news. He was shot down on the streets of
New Lisbon by an unidentified sniper."
"Right," replied the boss. "You'll be talking to him."
"The unidentified sniper?"
"We'll give you his name and address," said Geer. "The data robot has
it. The yoohoo lives in New Lisbon someplace."
Conger glanced sideways at the pixphone screen. "Wait now, boss. Did
our Remedial Functions Agency have something to do with knocking off
the colonel?"
"No." Geer shook his frazzled head. "I checked with the yoohoos in the
head office in Washington. RFA is clean, for a change, in this one. But it is
not impossible that National Security Office knows something about it.
They never confide in us, those NSO bastards." The boss lifted the photo
out of his saucer. "Jake, somebody has seen Colonel Macaco Cavala alive
and walking around."
"CBS-NBC, Inc. saw him flat on his back in his coffin."
"It's perplexing," admitted the boss. "I want you to teleport to New
Lisbon at 11 this morning, Jake. This Colonel Cavala thing fits in with
some other rumors we've been hearing. Talk to this yoohoo that's
supposed to have sniped the damn colonel, then contact the guy who
swears he saw him alive not three days ago." Geer took another bite out of
his waffleburger. "You realize how important this may be, Jake. Politically
and, perhaps, to all mankind."
The phone robot reminded the boss. "Tell him why we need an invisible
agent, boss."
"Oh, yeah." Geer took one further bite, chewed, swallowed. "If this
yoohoo in New Lisbon saw the late colonel where he thinks he saw him you
may have to turn invisible to get yourself in there." The boss waved a sheet
of orange-colored fax paper. "We only have nineteen invisible agents now,
Jake, since Agent Busino lost the ability to make the lower part of his body
from the knees down invisible. It takes two long years to process an
invisible agent, as you well know. If only Vincent X. Worth hadn't had that
fatal hopper accident and . . ."
"I know," said Conger. Worth had been the quirky young scientist and
researcher who'd developed many of the methods for manufacturing Wild
Talent Division agents. He was only a couple years older than Conger and
the two of them had been pretty good casual friends. Worth's private
aircruiser had exploded six months ago while he was enroute to a WTD
conference in the Philippines. "Okay, where has the colonel been seen?"
"You'll find out all about that when you get over to New Lisbon."
Conger said, "What happened to the notion this was my layoff month?"
"Jake, we've got an emergency situation here," explained the boss.
"Think of how important this may be to the future of United States foreign
policy and the prospect of a better life for all humanity. Think of all the
good men and true who've given their all for the Wild Talent Division.
Think of that ghostly echelon of good guys, which includes Marcus Jerico,
Donald E. Tannenbaum and the aforementioned Vincent X. Worth, cut
down in the very prime of life while they were unselfishly defending the
wonderful people and institutions of this, their own their native land.
Think, if you will, of the lonely bald eagle soaring . . ."