"Джон Варли. Платежное поручение(engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

"Where do they do the hiring?"
"I don't know." The cabbie lifted his paper.
"Thanks." Jennings turned away.
"They don't do any hiring. Maybe once in a long while. They don't take
many on. You better go someplace else if you're looking for work."
"All right."
The other cabbie leaned out of his cab. "They use only a few day
laborers, buddy. That's all. And they're very choosy. They don't hardly let
anybody in. Some kind of war work."
Jennings pricked up his ears. "Secret?"
"They come into town and pick up a load of construction workers. Maybe
a truck full. That's all. They're real careful who they pick."
Jennings walked back toward the cabbie. "That right?"
"It's a big place. Steel wall. Charged. Guards. Work going on day and
night. But nobody gets in. Set up on top of a hill, out the old Henderson
Road. About two miles and a half." The cabbie poked at his shoulder. "You
can't get in unless you're identified. They identify their laborers, after
they pick them out. You know."
Jennings stared at him. The cabbie was tracing a line on his shoulder.
Suddenly Jennings understood. A flood of relief rushed over him.
"Sure," he said. "I understand what you mean. At least, I think so." He
reached into his pocket, bringing out the four trinkets. Carefully, he
unfolded the strip of green cloth, holding it up. "Like this?"
The cabbies stared at the cloth. "That's right," one of them said
slowly, staring at the cloth. "Where did you get it?"
Jennings laughed. "A friend." He put the cloth back in his pocket. "A
friend gave it to me."
He went off, toward the Intercity field. He had plenty to do, now that
the first step was over. Rethrick was here, all right. And apparently the
trinkets were going to see him through. One for every crisis. A pocketful of
miracles, from someone who knew the future!
But the next step couldn't be done alone. He needed help. Somebody else
was needed for this part. But who? He pondered, entering the Intercity
waiting room. There was only one person he could possibly go to. It was a
long chance, but he had to take it. He couldn't work alone, here on out. If
the Rethrick plant was here then Kelly would be too. . .

The street was dark. At the corner a lamppost cast a fitful beam. A few
cruisers moved by.
From the apartment building entrance a slim shape came, a young woman
in a coat, a purse in her hand. Jennings watched as she passed under the
streetlamp. Kelly McVane was going someplace, probably to a party. Smartly
dressed, high heels tap-tapping on the pavement, a little coat and hat.
He stepped out behind her. "Kelly."
She turned quickly, her mouth open. "Oh!"
Jennings took her arm. "Don't worry. It's just me. Where are you going,
all dressed up?"
"No place." She blinked. "My golly, you scared me. What is it? What's
going on?"
"Nothing. Can you spare a few minutes? I want to talk to you."