"Kelly,_James_Patrick_-_Ninety_Percent_of_Everything" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kelly James Patrick)

"You couldn't afford the waterproofing." She peered into the camera. "What's the matter, dear?"
I told her all about Wetherall, the walk on the salt flats, my fit of brutal honesty at the moment he'd expressed a liking for me. And then Nguyen's bizarre revelation. "How could Nguyen be well within the bounds of what I consider my type when I'm not even remotely close to his? I drive one man away from me in terror while the other fights manfully to master his perverse attraction to me. What's wrong with me?"
"Absolutely nothing."
"But what does Nguyen mean when he says he feels 'eroticized?' _What_ grisly details? When he looks at me it's like my recurring nightmare where I walk into class naked and have to teach Kardashev's system for classifying extraterrestrials to hormone-soaked college boys."
"There is no other sort of college boy. Listen, does this Mr. O'Hara cross his legs when he's sitting near you? Does he stand with his torso canted forward at an angle of four to seven degrees?"
"I have no idea," I told her.
"How about the billionaire?"
"He seldom sits still long enough for me to analyze his kinesics."
"Maybe you should try. You seem confused about him."
"He's a confusing person."
"He didn't try to use that smart lasso on you, did he? Sometimes those rope boys don't know when to stop."
"Aunt Lindsay, please. I don't know why I got myself mixed up in this! My life was predictable. I was a respected professional in a stable environment. Now I'm on the net with madmen like Thorp, chasing lunatics like Wetherall across the salt flats, playing guessing games with egomaniacs like O'Hara. I've got a doctorate in exobiology!"
"You've always put too much store in the Ph.D., Elizabeth. That skanky Dr. Matthewson from your department called here the other day, asking odd questions about the sofa in the faculty lounge. It that really the 'stable environment' you're interested in? You've been in universities long enough to recognize that ninety percent of everything is bullshit. 'Piled higher and deeper.'"
I guess I should have known better than to seek my aunt's opinion on normal behavior. "But what should I _do_?"
"As long as you make sure you are getting enough anti-oxidants," Aunt Lindsay said, "you should do your best to enjoy every minute of it."
* * * *
It was still dark when Nguyen woke me by pounding on my door. My head was pounding, too. "Murk wants to speak with you. He's very upset. Wetherall is missing."
"Nguyen, it's five-thirty-three in the morning."
"Please, Liz. He's suffering."
I stumbled out to the lounge vid center. Despite the early hour, Janglish was already in his power suit. He looked as if his collar were strangling him. "Cobble, what the hell have you done with Ramsdel Wetherall?"
"That's _Dr_. Cobble. And I haven't done a damn thing with him."
"Not for lack of trying. The naive act isn't going to fool me, Cobble. You were pretty slick about dodging the waiver. But just because you didn't sign, doesn't mean you can sink your hooks into him."
"You tried his hotel?"
"You _know_ he was never at that hotel. He was just using the room to forward his messages. I began to get suspicious when it was always an avatar that answered whenever I called him there. Couple that with several reckless remarks he made about you, and I realized you must have him. I want him back now, do you hear me?"
"I believe they can hear you in Stuttgart, Mr. Janglish."
"Murk," Nguyen broke in, "you're way out of line, even for you. We haven't seen Wetherall since he left after the mobile base test. He hasn't made it out to the site in days. And Liz has been here all along -- I would certainly have noticed if she had been sneaking off to cavort with the boss."
"You're vouching for her, Nguyen?" sniffed Janglish.
"Why yes, I suppose I am." Out of range of the camera he drew a one with his forefinger for the favor I now owed him.
Janglish was only slightly mollified. "Well, then okay. For now. But I want you both to start looking for him. Give it your highest priority. Your project has got him neglecting his real responsibilities. There are ten transnational enterprises dependent on his input. I'm holding you responsible for distracting him. And if I find out that you've seen him and then let him get away, I'll have make you sorry you ever heard the name Murk Janglish."
"I already am," I muttered.
"Now Murk," said Nguyen, "you really ought to calm down. Wetherall is a slippery devil. Trying to catch him will only raise your blood pressure."
Janglish glared back at Nguyen. "It's a already hundred and eighty over ninety, and don't think you've helped it one bit." Then the screen went black.
"I believe I enjoy a special rapport with that man," Nguyen mused. "What do you think?"
"What was he going on about?" I asked. "What reckless remarks?"
Nguyen squinted out the window at the spectacular sunrise over the Wasatch Mountains. The shadow of Pile C pointed toward Laputa like an accusing finger. "I'll try the construction base," he said. "Maybe he's has some hiding place I've missed."
"I'm going to take a Serentol," I said, and headed for the bathroom.
* * * *
I donned one of Nguyen's staff uniforms, took a jeep, and headed across the flats toward the press encampment. The place seemed unusually busy for seven in the morning, but then, reporters on assignment don't sleep much. I ignored the swarm headed for the press tent, parked the jeep near a sol-power unit and prowled down the aisles of truck, vans, and satellite uplinks. Nests of fiberoptic cables sprawled across the scuffed salt. Finally I found what I was looking for.
The Jolly Freeze van was parked near the edge of the camp. There was no one in sight. I circled around to the back and kicked at the door. Not only did it feel great, but I believe I may have dented it.
"Wetherall!" I shouted. "Come out of there, you weasel!"
The door opened. Wetherall leaned out, grabbed me by the wrist, and yanked me in. "Thank God you're here, Liz."
Unlike the van he had used to pick me up at the university, this one was outfitted as a camper. There was a teak bunk, a teak drop table, a compact but sophisticated media center, galley, head. Three smart lassos lay coiled under the bunk. On the pix was the Queen Jolly Freeze construction site. The exterior of the house was completed, and workmen were entering and exiting through the balcony entrance.
"You've been here all along, haven't you? Even the other night when I was outside this van trying to talk to you, you were here, not in any hotel."
"Yes," he admitted.
I thought for a moment. "Did you even have a woman in here with you, or did you just invent her to make me feel used?"
"That wasn't why I invented her, Liz. I just wanted to keep away from Murk."
"Right in the middle of the biggest army of reporters in the country?"
"The Purloined Letter dodge. I'm sorry I deceived you."
"You're not forgiven. Do you know that Janglish has accused me of stealing you away from your 'responsibilities'?"
"Murk has a different view of my responsibilities than I have. He figures if he controls the women I see, then he controls me."