"Timothy Zahn - Deadman Switch" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zahn Timothy)

message with the hotel registrar to be transmitted to the local HTI office, and we retired to our
rooms.

Even then, the HTI people showed their expertise in such matters, giving us a half-hour to relax and
readjust to groundfall before arriving at the hotel.

—
They were sitting at one end of the polished gemrock table as we entered the privacy room: two
men, one dark and almost too young, with a slightly overformal black and burgundy capelet draped
carefully over his tunic; the other older and graying, with a sense of long tiredness hanging on his
shoulders as visibly as his physician's white capelet. On the table before the younger man sat an
open computer, humming faintly. "Good day to you," Randon nodded as they rose to their feet at our
approach. "I'm Randon Kelsey-Ramos of the Carillon Group; you must be our HTI hosts."

"Good day to you as well, sir," the younger man said with a nod that was as formal as his capelet.
His dark eyes flicked to me, the sense of him shifting from stiff and grudging politeness to animosity
as he did so. "I'm Sahm Aikman—HTI legal affairs department," he continued, eyes shifting back to
Randon. "This is my colleague, Dr. Kurt DeMont—" he gestured, the muscles of his hand as taut as
the rest of him—"who handles the various medical aspects of the Solitaire run."

DeMont's eyes came back to Randon from their uneasy study of me and he nodded his own greeting.
"Mr. Kelsey-Ramos," he said gravely. His eyes shifted again to me, and I sensed a surge of boldness
peek through, as if he were considering speaking to me directly. But caution and protocol prevailed,
the boldness withered, and he remained silent.

All of which would have been abundant proof, if I'd needed any, that the message O'Rielly had sent
here had included the fact that Randon might be bringing his father's Watcher along. But they
weren't quite sure yet...

"Pleased to meet you," Randon said, nodding acknowledgment of the introductions. He, too, had
picked up on their interest in me; equally clear was the fact that he intended to draw out their
uncertainties as far as he could. "May I say, first of all, that I appreciate your getting all the
accommodations trivia out of the way—it certainly made life easier for my aides." He waved
vaguely in my direction; like magic, both sets of eyes shifted to me. The gesture shifted smoothly,
Randon's hand ending up pointing at the computer sitting on the table. "You've brought me copies of
your records?"

"Uh, yes, sir," Aikman said, shifting gears with visible effort, his attention lingering on me for a
second after his eyes had gone back to Randon. Standard business etiquette said that entourages like
me were to be ignored in direct address until and unless they were formally introduced, and

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Deadman Switch

Randon's deliberate failure to do so was beginning to irritate him. "I thought we could take a few
minutes to go through them now, if you're willing."

"You have all HTI's records here?" Randon asked.

"Oh, no—just those involving shipment through Whitecliff," Aikman said. "The complete records