[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
propaganda and fakery. But people on Chryse are taking notice. Luodine s face
is familiar there. They know she talks straight. Orzin wagged a finger. But
that s not all. She doesn t want to just sit here passing on news that comes
in. Her style has always been to go out herself and find it. She s persuaded
the Air Force to provide her and Nyarl with a jet to turn into a mobile
studio. You d have to hear her enthusiasm to believe it. I think she has
finally discovered what she really wants to do.
In an NBC news studio at the Rockefeller Center in New York, Casper Toddrel
gazed somberly at the camera showing live and completed the address that he
had prepared as part of a public relations effort being coordinated from the
White House. It will be a painful duty. It will not be a pleasant duty. But
it is a necessary duty. For as long as it takes, we cannot speak of these
places as belonging to America anymore. They have become an extension of
foreign power into this continent. The next step will be a bridgehead for
Page 165
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
invasion. We, in the East at this hour, stand as the last bastion of defense
for the values that
America has always stood for. The people in California and Oregon, New Mexico
and Montana are not our enemy. The enemy is the corrupt gang of traitors and
opportunists who have turned Sacramento into a provincial capital of China. I
ask you all to stand by us and our Hyadean allies to reverse this tragic
aberration that had befallen us. We can, and we will, not only bring all of
America back into the fold, but
build out of it a stronger and more united America than has ever existed. A
new United States, purged, reformed, revitalized, fit not only to assume again
its rightful place as leader among the nations of this world, but to establish
this world as a full and equal partner, enjoying all due rights and dignity,
in the wider community of our newfound interstellar cousins. Toddrel paused
to let his audience contemplate the vision, then nodded solemnly. Thank you.
The red camera light went out. Thanks, Mr. Toddrel, the set manager called
from behind the lights.
That s was good. That s it. You re done.
Toddrel collected together the notes he had laid on the desk, got up, and
headed for the door. Ibsan, his bodyguard, saw him through the glass wall of
an adjacent monitor room and came out.
Mr.
Toddrel.
You d better see this. Ibsan nodded back over his shoulder.
What is it?
Flash just coming in from Bolivia. That Hyadean mining center at Uyali. Half
their military base down there blew up. It s like it got nuked.
Jesus
. . . .
Toddrel followed Ibsan into the room, which was lined on one side with
consoles and screens. Three of the operators were grouped in front of one
showing a scene panning across the wreckage and carnage of whole blocks of
peculiar Hyadean building-block architecture shattered and twisted into
grotesque shapes, with a pall of smoke hanging over the background. Crews from
emergency vehicles had started bringing out survivors, while more flyers and
Terran-built helicopters descended into view from above. A
voiceover was talking excitedly and breathlessly.
About fifteen minutes ago, one of the operators commented, seeing that
Toddrel had joined them.
The whole back end of the place just went up. From the accounts, it sounds as
if it was the armory. It was loaded. A shipment of Hyadean ammo and stuff just
arrived from orbit. They re counting the death toll in hundreds already.
Toddrel watched grimly for a few minutes, but there was nothing of further
significance to be learned. He caught Ibsan s eye and jerked his head curtly
in the direction of the door as a sign for them to leave. They stopped by a
door at the end of a corridor of offices.
It had to be those new remote-detonatable munitions, Ibsan murmured.
Somehow the wrong people got access to the codes. I don t know what kind of a
can of worms it opens up, but I figured you ought to know right away.
Toddrel nodded, still thinking frantically. You did right, Earl.
He should never have agreed to letting Drisson look into it, he told himself.
There were too many factions at large, too many conflicting interests. The
opportunities for betrayal should have made the risks unthinkable. In normal
circumstances he would never have condoned it. He had no idea who the
perpetrators might have been. The Asians or one of their breakaway groups?
Part of the guerrilla front?
Some other lunatic sect? Drisson himself for some reason? Somebody Drisson was
mixed up with, who had an agenda of their own? . . . But whatever, there
Page 166
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
was one person who was sure to be high on everybody s suspect list.
Roger Achim, the program s producer, came through from the set, accompanied by
a couple of assistants. Everything all right, Mr. Toddrel?
Yes, just fine, Toddrel responded mechanically.
Good, good.
Oh, one thing.
Yes?
Is there somewhere private that I could use? I have to make a confidential
call urgently.
Sure. Susie, find Mr. Toddrel an empty office along there somewhere, would
you?
Minutes later, Toddrel was confronting the blue-purple features of Gazaghin, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl karpacz24.htw.pl
propaganda and fakery. But people on Chryse are taking notice. Luodine s face
is familiar there. They know she talks straight. Orzin wagged a finger. But
that s not all. She doesn t want to just sit here passing on news that comes
in. Her style has always been to go out herself and find it. She s persuaded
the Air Force to provide her and Nyarl with a jet to turn into a mobile
studio. You d have to hear her enthusiasm to believe it. I think she has
finally discovered what she really wants to do.
In an NBC news studio at the Rockefeller Center in New York, Casper Toddrel
gazed somberly at the camera showing live and completed the address that he
had prepared as part of a public relations effort being coordinated from the
White House. It will be a painful duty. It will not be a pleasant duty. But
it is a necessary duty. For as long as it takes, we cannot speak of these
places as belonging to America anymore. They have become an extension of
foreign power into this continent. The next step will be a bridgehead for
Page 165
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
invasion. We, in the East at this hour, stand as the last bastion of defense
for the values that
America has always stood for. The people in California and Oregon, New Mexico
and Montana are not our enemy. The enemy is the corrupt gang of traitors and
opportunists who have turned Sacramento into a provincial capital of China. I
ask you all to stand by us and our Hyadean allies to reverse this tragic
aberration that had befallen us. We can, and we will, not only bring all of
America back into the fold, but
build out of it a stronger and more united America than has ever existed. A
new United States, purged, reformed, revitalized, fit not only to assume again
its rightful place as leader among the nations of this world, but to establish
this world as a full and equal partner, enjoying all due rights and dignity,
in the wider community of our newfound interstellar cousins. Toddrel paused
to let his audience contemplate the vision, then nodded solemnly. Thank you.
The red camera light went out. Thanks, Mr. Toddrel, the set manager called
from behind the lights.
That s was good. That s it. You re done.
Toddrel collected together the notes he had laid on the desk, got up, and
headed for the door. Ibsan, his bodyguard, saw him through the glass wall of
an adjacent monitor room and came out.
Mr.
Toddrel.
You d better see this. Ibsan nodded back over his shoulder.
What is it?
Flash just coming in from Bolivia. That Hyadean mining center at Uyali. Half
their military base down there blew up. It s like it got nuked.
Jesus
. . . .
Toddrel followed Ibsan into the room, which was lined on one side with
consoles and screens. Three of the operators were grouped in front of one
showing a scene panning across the wreckage and carnage of whole blocks of
peculiar Hyadean building-block architecture shattered and twisted into
grotesque shapes, with a pall of smoke hanging over the background. Crews from
emergency vehicles had started bringing out survivors, while more flyers and
Terran-built helicopters descended into view from above. A
voiceover was talking excitedly and breathlessly.
About fifteen minutes ago, one of the operators commented, seeing that
Toddrel had joined them.
The whole back end of the place just went up. From the accounts, it sounds as
if it was the armory. It was loaded. A shipment of Hyadean ammo and stuff just
arrived from orbit. They re counting the death toll in hundreds already.
Toddrel watched grimly for a few minutes, but there was nothing of further
significance to be learned. He caught Ibsan s eye and jerked his head curtly
in the direction of the door as a sign for them to leave. They stopped by a
door at the end of a corridor of offices.
It had to be those new remote-detonatable munitions, Ibsan murmured.
Somehow the wrong people got access to the codes. I don t know what kind of a
can of worms it opens up, but I figured you ought to know right away.
Toddrel nodded, still thinking frantically. You did right, Earl.
He should never have agreed to letting Drisson look into it, he told himself.
There were too many factions at large, too many conflicting interests. The
opportunities for betrayal should have made the risks unthinkable. In normal
circumstances he would never have condoned it. He had no idea who the
perpetrators might have been. The Asians or one of their breakaway groups?
Part of the guerrilla front?
Some other lunatic sect? Drisson himself for some reason? Somebody Drisson was
mixed up with, who had an agenda of their own? . . . But whatever, there
Page 166
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
was one person who was sure to be high on everybody s suspect list.
Roger Achim, the program s producer, came through from the set, accompanied by
a couple of assistants. Everything all right, Mr. Toddrel?
Yes, just fine, Toddrel responded mechanically.
Good, good.
Oh, one thing.
Yes?
Is there somewhere private that I could use? I have to make a confidential
call urgently.
Sure. Susie, find Mr. Toddrel an empty office along there somewhere, would
you?
Minutes later, Toddrel was confronting the blue-purple features of Gazaghin, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]