"Mack Reynolds - Planetary Agent X" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

Population was exploding. Men were making slaves out of each
other, to put them to work. Oh, it was a mess from the viewpoint
of the original nature boys.”
A red light flickered on his desk and Sid Jakes opened a
delivery drawer and dipped his hand into it. It emerged with a flat
wallet. He tossed it to Ronny Bronston.
“Here you are. Your badge.”
Ronny opened the wallet and examined it. He’d never seen
one before, but for that matter he’d never heard of Section G
before that morning. It was a simple enough bronze badge. It said
merely, Ronald Bronston, Section G, Bureau of Investigation, United Planets
.
Sid Jakes explained. “You’ll get cooperation with that through
the Justice Department anywhere you go. Well brief you further on
procedure during indoctrination. You in turn, of course, are to
cooperate with any other agent of Section G. You’re under orders
of anyone with”—his hand snaked into a pocket and emerged with
a wallet similar to Ronny’s—“a silver badge, carried by a First
Grade Agent, or a gold one of Supervisor rank.”
Ronny noted that his badge wasn’t really bronze. It had a
certain sheen, a brightness.
Jake said, “Here, look at this.” He tossed his own badge to the
new man. Ronny looked down at it in surprise. The gold had gone
dull.
Jakes laughed. “Now give me yours.”
Ronny got up and walked over to him and handed it over. As
soon as the other man’s hand touched it, the bronze lost its sheen.
 Jakes handed it back. “See, it’s tuned to you alone,” he said.
“And mine is tuned to my code. Nobody can swipe a Section G
badge and impersonate an agent. If anybody ever shows you a
badge that doesn’t have its sheen, you know he’s a fake. Neat trick,
eh?”
“Very neat,” Ronny admitted. He returned the other’s gold
badge. “Look, to get back to this Tommy Paine.”
But the red light flickered again and Jakes brought forth from
the delivery drawer a hand gun complete with shoulder harness.
“Nasty weapon,” he said. “But we’d better go on down to the
armory and show you its workings.”
He stood up. “Oh, yes, don’t let me forget to give you a
communicator. A real gizmo. About as big as a woman’s vanity
case. Puts you in immediate contact with the nearest Section G
office, no matter how near or far away it is. Or, if you wish, in
contact with our offices here in the Octagon. Very neat trick.”
He led Ronny Bronston from his office and down the
corridors beyond to an elevator. He said happily, “This is a crazy
outfit, this Section G. You’ll probably love it. Everybody does.”