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

cruiser’s skipper had a lead. But, no, he sank back into his chair.
That name was strictly a Section G pseudonym. No one used it
outside the department, and he’d already said too much by using
the term at all.
Ronny said idly, “Probably two different people. I think I’ll go
on back and see how Tog is doing.”


Tog was at her communicator when he entered the tiny ship’s
lounge. Ronny could see, in the brilliant little screen of the compact
device, the grinning face of Sid Jakes. Tog looked up at Ronny and
smiled, then clicked the device off.
“What’s new?” Ronny said.
She moved graceful shoulders. “I just called Supervisor Jakes.
Evidently there’s complete confusion on New Delos. Mobs are
storming the temples. In the capital the priests tried to present a
new God-King and he was laughed out of town.”
Ronny snorted cynically. “Sounds good to me. The more I
read about New Delos and its God-King and his priesthood, the
more I think the best thing that ever happened to the planet was
this showing them up.”
Tog looked at him, the sides of her mouth tucking down as
usual when she was going to contradict something he said. “It
sounds bad to me,” she said. “Tommy Paine’s work is done. He’ll
be off to some other place and we won’t get there in time to snare
him.”
Ronny considered that. It was probably true. “I wonder,” he
said slowly, “if it’s possible for us to get a list of all ships that have
blasted off since the assassination, all ships and their destination
from New Delos.”
The idea grew in him. “Look! It’s possible that a dictatorial
government such as theirs would immediately quarantine every
spaceport on the planet.”
Tog said, “There’s only one spaceport on New Delos. The
priesthood didn’t encourage trade or even communication with the
outside. Didn’t want its people contaminated.”
“Good God!” Ronny blurted. “It’s possible that Tommy
Paine’s on that planet and can’t get off. Look, Tog, see if you can
raise the Section G representative on New Delos and—”
Tog said demurely, “I already have taken that step, Ronny,
knowing that you’d want me to. Agent Mouley Hassan has
promised to get the name and destination of every passenger that
leaves New Delos.”
Ronny sat down at a table and dialed himself a mug of stout.
“Drink?” he said to Tog. “Possibly we’ve got something to
celebrate.”
She shook her head disapprovingly. “I don’t use depressants.”

There was nothing more to be discussed about New Delos;
they simply would have to wait until their arrival. Ronny switched