"C. Sanford Lowe & G. David Nordley - The Small Pond" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lowe C Sanford)

Liz pointed to her head, letting the others know she was getting a
transmission. Go ahead.
We have a problem out on Canning. Terry Peal went off the deep end.
Liz registered the name with a start. The robot wars guy? What’s he done?
He kidnapped a dozen people in a construction shack. He has decided the
Black Hole Project is a bad idea and should be shut down. There may be some
political pressure to do that if people’s lives are at risk.
Crap, Liz replied. Are the people really in danger?
Our psychometric filter has Peal at eight out of ten on the
Kaczynski-McVeigh scale. He could think those who do not agree with him, or
simply work on the project, are morally complicit or can be sacrificed. We must do
something immediately. Unfortunately, I think I will need to stay here because of
the politics. Would it be possible for you to go to Canning and deal with this as my
emissary?
Liz touched the net quickly—the KM scale had been around since the
twenty-first century and measured a propensity for rationalized violence. Peal
sounded like a problem that needed fixing, but...
Cyan, I’m not, officially, part of the mining operation anymore.
You are now. This is an emergency. You know Peal.
Gunheim will unappoint me fast, and maybe you, too!
I do not think he would do anything so arbitrary during the campaign. He
would, however, make me pay for it if I am not successful. You are the most logical
choice because you have the greatest commitment. Also, having you involved may
make Roger angry, and angry men sometimes act unwisely, to the profit of their
opponents.
Now or never, Liz thought. I’m on my way. Liz out.
“What was that?” David asked.
 Liz pursed her lips. How much should she say now? “Terry Peal again. David,
have you ever heard of a couple of psychiatrists named Kaczynski and McVeigh?
There’s a scale relating to antisocial conflict...”
David’s eyes went wide. “Liz, Kaczynski and McVeigh were not
psychiatrists.”
Liz felt another chill.
“Twentieth century American political killers,” Judi said. “Liz, what gives?”
She told them. “David, can you arrange a shuttle to Canning for me?”
He nodded. “What do you have in mind?”
“Making a hero out of myself.”
“How?”
“Don’t know yet, but I’ll have to do it there. I’ll need to get on my way before
Gunheim figures it out.” She gave him a brief embrace and started trotting for the
Lenore Landing Field.
It took her forty precious minutes to get a fan car, then another twenty for it to
glide its way to the north pole port facility. When her fan car arrived at the port
facility, the human attendant was grinning ear to ear.
Her heart jumped. The man worked for Gunheim. Was she already too late?
“I get a nice break today, it seems. You’ve got the last shuttle.”
“Really,” Liz said, wondering how close they’d come to disaster.
“Dr. Lalande’s people just reserved all the others for various astronomical
missions. Something about getting a wide baseline for a predicted supernova in a
Fornax dwarf galaxy.”