"Alastair Reynolds - A Spy In Europa" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Alastair)

"Demarchy security advisory," said a bleak machine voice emanating from

the wall. "A murder has occurred in the medical sector. The suspect may be

an armed gill worker. Approach with extreme caution."

They'd found Cholok. Risky, killing her. But Gilgamesh preferred to burn

its bridges, removing the possibility of any sleeper turning traitor after

they had fulfilled their usefulness. In the future, Vargovic mulled, they

might be better using a toxin, rather than the immediate kill. He made a

mental note to insert this in his report.

He entered the final tunnel, not far from the waterlock which had been his

destination. At the tunnel's far end a technician sat on a crate,

listening with a stethoscope to something going on behind an access panel.

For a moment Vargovic considered passing the man, hoping he was engrossed

in his work. He began to approach him, padding on bare webbed feet, which

made less noise than the shoes he had just removed. Then the man nodded to

himself, uncoupled from the listening post and slammed the hatch. Grabbing

his crate, he stood and made eye contact with Vargovic.

"You're not meant to be here," he said. Then offered, almost plaintively:

"Can I help you? You've just had surgery, haven't you? I always know the

ones like you: always a little red around the gills."

Vargovic drew his collar higher, then relented because that made it harder

to breathe. "Stay where you are," he said. "Put down the crate and

freeze."

"Christ, it was you, wasn't it - that advisory?" the man said.
Vargovic raised the laser. Blinded, the man blundered into the wall,

dropping the crate. He made a pitiful moan. Vargovic crept closer, the man

stumbling into the scalpel. Not the cleanest of killings, but that hardly