"Stephen Kraus - White Walls" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kraus Stephen)

young woman with the precise walk.

An electrical pulse set up a standing wave on the template. The strand it held
rippled irritably for a time, unwilling to leave the surface. Finally it lifted clear.

“Encase it,” Jacobson said. “Use a T-4 phage sheath. I’ll be in my office. Let
me know when you’re done.”

His assistant turned away from her monitor. She always sat too close to the
display, and now it soaked her face in a dull amber glow. “Don’t you want to
watch?”

But Jacobson was already cycling through the airlock.

“Cue to the interview.”

The system complied. Julia walked through a sliding door into a bare room.
The entire ceiling shone, achingly bright. The director stood near the back wall with
his arms crossed. He wore a reflective fishbowl helmet and a loose white suit that
disguised his slight build. The airlock door slid shut. Julia’s security robot rolled
unobtrusively into a corner. The two figures loomed in the confined space.

The director walked in a circle, his arms still crossed.

“Julia Sholokov?” He spoke in a piping castrato tenor that lent his words an
incongruous enthusiasm.

She nodded and looked around nervously, perhaps for some place to sit
down. There was nothing.

“You’re a dancer, am I right?”

“Yes. No. I was. I’m an Associated Municipalities conscript now.”

The director waved her last comment aside. “Are you a good dancer?”
 She didn’t answer for a second. “I suppose so . . . sir.”

He took a step closer to her. “Take off your suit.”

“Pardon me?”

“Remove your coveralls, please.”

Jacobson froze, his face centimeters from the monitor. His fingers gripped the
edge of his desk. What was the director doing? He was a strange man: insular,
unpredictable, easily agitated. But this made no sense. He’d never shown any interest
in women before, much less . . .

The image blurred, then refocused. Julia pushed the white suit down over her
legs, her arms shaking noticeably. She reached up to touch her hair, for reassurance,