"Jody Lynn Nye - Medecine Show" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nye Jody Lynn)

"Stop the project," Dennison said flatly. "Withdraw the remaining doses, isolate the ones we know
about, and start policing the area for any leaks where the natives might have been exposed."
"Out of the question," Morganstern spoke up. "LabCor will be sending an inspection squad out here
within the month. We can't risk any appearance of impropriety."
"Impropriety?" Dennison exploded. "Look, if you're not going to do something, I will. I'll blow the
whistle."
"How dare you?" Morganstern demanded. Volk grabbed her assistant's arm.
"No," she said to Dennison. "You do what you have to do. If you feel that you'd rather jeopardize the
grant for fifteen of your fellow scientists, destroy our project, our careers and standing in the research
community—our dreams—you go right ahead."
"You're damned right I am going ahead," Dennison said, and strode with much dignity out of the hut.


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 Jody Lynn Nye - Medicine Show


"What are you doing?" Morganstern asked Volk in a harsh whisper. "He'll be on the net in two minutes,
pulling down a medical inspector. We can't afford exposure. Our contract calls for absolute
confidentiality…"
"Don't worry," Volk said. "I saw this coming. Hampton tipped me off days ago that Ed was getting edgy.
I have already anticipated his attempts to send a message to the Galactic
Government. The lines are cut off and they'll remain off until I'm good and ready to restore them."
"And after that? We need those comm lines, too. He can wait a day or two before bringing chaos down
on our heads."
"After that?" Volk said grimly, her lips pressed together. "Dennison won't be in any shape to send a
message." She raised her eyes to meet Morganstern's and nodded signifi-cantly. He looked surprised,
then after a moment's consider-ation he nodded back slowly, as if entranced. "See to it," she said.


1
"Stand to quarters!" Gershom Taylor barked, leaning forward in the pilot's seat of the scout-trader Sibyl
and taking firmer hold of the controls in his long hands. "That ship's coming about again. Dammit, who
are they?"
Dr. Shona Taylor, his wife and partner, sprang up from the crash chair next to his to make room at the
console for Eblich, the co-pilot, then ran aft along the narrow corridor of the Sibyl toward her laboratory.
A sudden lurching turn made the metal panels screech against one another, and threw her into the
bulkhead. Handing her way along carefully, she dragged herself toward the lab module.
The growing feeling of uneasiness she had been nursing since the shipyard two days before had
blossomed into cer-tainty. After months of careful maneuvering, redirecting their subspace calls and
messages through two or perhaps three dummy numbers, paying their bills through an anonymous credit
line for supplies, they had made a single mistake which pinpointed them in space for anybody trying to
find Shona Taylor. Evidently, somebody was still looking.
It had been a mistake to stay so long in the shipyard at the edge of the Venturi system, but the necessary
refit of the Sibyl had taken that much time.
The Taylor Traveling Medicine Show and Trading Company had originally consisted of four people.
Gershom, as captain, also acted as the outside man, negotiating trades. Ivo, the shuttle pilot, was
Gershom's second in making deals and getting the cargo from warehouse to ship and out again. Eblich,
the co-pilot, also acted as bookkeeper, calculating the value against gross profit of the stores maintained