"Steve White - The Disinherited" - читать интересную книгу автора (White Steve)

required at the moment, and it would have been too much trouble to
don the full suit and helmet that would have enabled them to
interact physically, with all the appropriate sensations. Never really
liked the things anyway, Varien groused to himself. If they get much
better, how will we keep track of what is and isn’t real? At least,
this shared line was as secure as Variens resources, and the military
ones at Arduins disposal, could make it. And the stark, utilitarian
meeting room that the program simulated was appropriate to the
subject at hand.
“Well,” Varien began without ceremony, addressing Tarlann. “Is
everything in readiness?”

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White, Steve - [The Disinherited 01] - The Disinherited


His son nodded, his unease palpable as the computer faithfully
reproduced all the outward signs of human emotions it would never
feel. “Yes, father. I know its useless to try to talk you into changing
your mind…”
“Then don’t bother trying,” Varien cut in. “Our time is limited.” He
instantly regretted his curtness— he might never see his only son
again. He softened his tone, which had always represented his very
best effort at apology. “Our plans have already been set in motion,
son. And you’ve been running our enterprises on a day-to-day basis
for years now, so the company shouldn’t go into shock. Besides, It’s
not as if I was leaving permanently!” Which, he gibed at himself,
might even turn out to be true. He turned to Arduin. “And at your
end?”
His old friend and colleague nodded, looking even more miserable
than Tarlann. Varien understood; as a senior officer in the new
Raehaniv military, Arduin was experiencing a conflict of loyalties
with which his open and honorable nature was unfit to cope.
Varien’s arguments had persuaded his intellect, but his conscience
remained stubbornly unconvinced. Of course, Arduin’s misery
might also have had something to do with the sheer discomfort of
the uniform he was wearing. The Raehaniv had remembered enough
of their history to think, uncritically, of uniforms as something
soldiers were supposed to have. And for their desperately
improvised military, they had naturally looked to the most recent
examples of such things: the consciously archaic (even then)
confections used by the rival states of the Fourth Global War in
their efforts to reignite their despairing populations’ nationalism.

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White, Steve - [The Disinherited 01] - The Disinherited


So we made our defenders look—and feel—like buffoons, Varien
reflected. Ah, well; we did everything else wrong, so why not that