The Touch of the Hook

Начало книги

WARREN Ash sat in the airgate lounge, staring at nothing, waiting for Obsidian's ocean to freeze. On his left wrist the snake tightened.

He looked down. It's almost pretty, he thought. How odd. Black armored segments curved smoothly around his wrist. A ruby optic band and a cluster of silver sensor studs marked the snake's blunt head. Its tail circuitry plugged into a recess where an organic snake's gullet would be, and two heavy alloy fangs locked into deep sockets in the tail, forging an unbreakable manacle. Beside the optic band a tiny plate read: Property of SeedCorp.

Ash remembered the Seed Corp recruiter who had purchased his contract, three Standard years before.

The recruiter, an elegant morph from Dilvermoon, had spoken persuasively, in a guileless voice. «Citizen Ash, I judge you to be a careful man, and this is a job for a man who despises risk. SeedCorp will equip you with an advanced security link. It will be — I guarantee this — impossible for you to make a mistake in the performance of your duties.»

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