"L. E. Modesitt - The Ecolitan Institute 01 - Ecologic Envoy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

"Probability of successful assassination not quantifiable under first order assumptions. Under second order,
probability twenty percent, with a standard deviation of not more than twenty percent." The Director smiled.

"All right," she said. "You've got the verification that to warn their Envoy will alter the probabilities along the fines we
think would be desirable. How can you warn him, clearly, and yet in a way that will convey the absolute seriousness of
the situation?"

"That's simple. We try to assassinate him first."




.. . VIII. ..



Nathaniel Whaler took another full step in front of the Imperial Marines to survey the entrance to his Legation.

The New Augusta tower corridor was nearly as wide as the average street back on Harmony but without the more
elaborate facades that graced the capital of Accord. On' New Augusta, each address within the towers or tunnels
merely seemed to have a standard portal. The portal to the Accord Legation, aside from its green color and gold letters
proclaiming the LEGATION OF ACCORD, differed little from the others he had passed.

As high as he was in the Diplomatic Tower, there was considerable foot traffic, along with numerous automated
delivery carts.

Nathaniel half turned toward the bystanders who watched his honor guard with a mixture of boredom and indifferent
curiosity. As he did, the sight of an all-too-familiar object coming to bear on him sent him into a diving roll behind the
still-standing guards. Scritttt!

The splinter gun fragments shattered across the portal facing and skittered along the corridor. "Spread and search!"
snapped the Marine Lieutenant. "He's gone already," observed Nathaniel, dusting himself off.

The Marine officer ignored the Ecolitan's observation and sprinted down the corridor. Two ratings closed up next to
Nathaniel, each scanning the corridor in a different direction.

"Sir? Don't you think you should get under cover?"

"Little late for that."

Most of the bystanders had scuttled out of the path of the onrushing Marines or had found they had business
elsewhere.

Nathaniel scanned the faces that remained. Two of the handful still in the corridor struck him as possibilities, and he
committed their faces to memory before turning his full attention to the narrow scratch on the portal.

"Hmmm. . ." he murmured. The splinter had barely scratched the permaplast. He checked the corridor flow and tiles
for nearly twenty meters but could find no trace of the splinter fragments he had heard.

What with the apparent attack and all the Imperial Marines, the Ecolitan felt more like he had been leading an