"Linda Nagata - Hooks, Nets & Time" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nagata Linda)

"Zayder Silveira?" Commarin shoved himself up on an elbow. "I've heard of you. I read your doctoral
thesis, An Observational History of a Juvenile Great White Shark. It was a stunning exercise in open
ocean research. I'm honored to meet you."

Zayder blinked, astonished at this outburst, and the unexpected reminder of better days. The juvenile
stage of the white shark's life cycle had been virtually unknown before he'd netted his subject in the
Indian Ocean. He'd tagged the little shark, then followed its beacon for three months. But his research
ended prematurely when it trailed the scent of death to carcasses entangled in an abandoned drift net.
Before long the white shark became entangled too.
That study had turned out to be the last published account of a living great white. Zayder had hooked
Tiburon three years later, but by then he'd been working for Ryan.

"Are you continuing your shark studies here?" Commarin asked. He seemed suddenly invigorated: his
dark eyes sparkled with curiosity, his pale cheeks bore a faint flush of excitement. He seemed to have
forgotten his injuries, his precarious existence of a few minutes before as he pressed Zayder for more
information. "Is Ryan supporting your research?"

Watching him, Zayder felt a flash of anger. He hadn't pulled a man from the ocean. He'd only salvaged a
spoiled corporate brat who didn't know enough about the real world to appreciate his own jeopardy.

"Yeah," Zayder said, his voice ugly with sarcasm. "I came here to study the sharks. That's right. Mr.
Ryan's real interested in natural history."

Commarin's expression dimmed. He looked away. "You're right, of course. Ryan's not interested in
natural history. I know that. It's all money to him." He knotted the blanket in his fist. "That's why I had to
leave."

His voice had descended to a barely audible whisper, but there was something compelling in it, leading
Zayder to wonder if his judgement had been too harsh. He stood up thoughtfully, and fetched Commarin
some water. "Why did you leave?" he asked, as Commarin drank thirstily.

Commarin lowered the cup. For the first time, he seemed angry. "Ryan's my patron, you know. He
considers me his prodigy. He's supported me since I was five, the best schools, all of that. I took my
degree in genetics. It's what he wanted; not what I wanted. I wanted to study natural history, like you."

Commarin Wong. Zayder grimaced as he suddenly recognized the name. Commarin Wong was the new
star of Ryan's genetic labs. Far more than a corporate brat, he was a hand-fed prince raised to augment
Ryan's empire.

"That's the expression most colleagues get when they realize who I am," Commarin said resentfully.

Zayder felt himself backing away emotionally. "I'm no colleague of yours," he growled. "I don't know
anything about constructing genetically-specific drugs -- and I don't want to. I'm just a grunt Ryan hired
to oversee his favorite hobby."

"No you're not," Commarin shot back. "You're the poacher who took a degree in natural history. A
poacher. With a black mark like that, it's no wonder you couldn't get a real job. So now you work for
Ryan."

"You know, you're a real wise-ass."