SFworld 版 (精华区)
作 家: xian (去日留痕) on board 'SFworld'
题 目: The Dominus Demonstration (1)
来 源: 哈尔滨紫丁香站
日 期: Thu Sep 25 11:44:29 1997
出 处: byh.bbs@bbs.net.tsinghua.edu.cn
发信人: KingKongKang (KKK经理/裁判), 信区: SFworld
标 题: The Dominus Demonstration (1)
发信站: BBS 水木清华站 (Sun Aug 3 18:43:10 1997)
The Dominus Demonstration
by Charles Sheffiled
A day of steady snow had added another six inches to
the twelve that lay on the ground. Now, as darkness ap-
proached, a National Guard unit moved the silent group
of men and women to one side, to leave a twenty-yard
corridor outside the chain-link fence. They retreated from
the road slowly, but without resistance. The wind had
dropped, and the sky was a dull overcast with a promise
of more snow.
An Army vehicle approached over the partly cleared
road from the airport, scrabbling and slewing its way
towards the isolated building complex. Its wheels had
poor traction despite the chains and four-wheel drive. The
driver, conscious of his cargo, drove with great concen-
tration. He slowed even further as the car moves past the
crowd. The bare-headed watchers outside the fence stared
in through the bulletproof glass windows, paused in the
muttered prayers of their vigil, and pressed a little closer
to the guard pickets.
To the two men who looked down from the main building's
sixth floor, the hump-backed car was dwarfed to
a mottled gray and brown crab, creeping its carapace
up to the guard box at the front gate. The taller of the two
rubbed his hands together and shivered.
"Cold, Jim?" said his companion.
"Nah. Not really." Jim Bevin shrugged. "Just watching
them gives me the shivers. It's still getting colder. If they
stay outside tonight we'll have a dozen more cases of
hypothermia to deal with."
"If we're lucky. There's a lot more people than last
night. Must be close to a thousand out there right now.
Want to try to have them moved inside?"
"Waste of time. Their lawyers are still hanging around.
Bunch of vultures. They don't care if their clients die of
exposure. We'd hear the same argument all over again.
They quote the 'right of peaceful demonstration', and 'right
to quite prayer' -- but you don't see them standing outside."
He nodded his head toward the window. The advancing
car had moved closer to the building and was hidden by
an overhang of masonry. The watchers outside the fence
had turned their attention again to the tall building.
"Thank heaven he's finally arriving. Maybe we can settle
this thing one way or the other."
"Yeah. Maybe." Rafael Chang shrugged pessimistically
and shook his hand with its tangle of dark, bushy hair. "I
won't hold my breath. Want to go down and meet him?"
"No. But we'd better do it. No point in losing his sym-
pathies before he starts. He was our first choice, and we
got him. Let's make the most of it."
By the time they reached the lobby the car's single
passenger was inside, signing the guard book, then straight-
ening, blowing on his hands, and stamping his feet on the
tiled floor. As the elevator doors whined open he turned
slowly and nodded a greeting.
"Rafael Chang. How are you? You've put on a little
weight."
"Long time no see. It's been nearly ten years."
"That long? seems like yesterday." He turned. "And
you must be Doctor Bevin. Did we ever meet back there? I
know your name, but I don't recall your face. My memo-
ry's not what it should be."
The newcomer stood perfectly still, as though inviting
their appraisal. He was tall, with thinning white hair and
eyes of faded blue. His clothing was an expensive tweed,
well tailored to his long, rangy body. The hand that he at
last held out to Jim Bevin was thin, blue-veined, and
marked with liver spots.
"We met only once, Sir." The honorific came without
thinking, surprising Bevin. He coughed self-consciously,
suddenly aware of his grubby cardigan and battered leather
shoes. "I'd be amazed if you did remember me. I was
working for Control Data, and you ran a procurement
review that I attended. But I was just the go-fer, carrying
in flip charts and hoping nobody would ask me nothing."
The visitor smiled. "I'd be lying if I said I remembered
it. We had two of those every week. Most of them I'd
rather not think about. You two aren't the go-fers now,
eh?"
"Sometimes wish we were, Sir." Rafael Chang took the
outstretched hand, noticing the lack of strength in the
other's grip. "I remember the last review you did with
me, after my promotion. It was on the Randall Mark One,
and the schedule had slipped. You roasted me -- I was
nervous for weeks." But how you've aged, the thought ran
on. It's terrifying to see what ten years can do to even a
healthy man.
"But you finished ahead of schedule. I remember that
one. Happy days, eh?" The pale blue eyes beamed. "Why
don't we get out of this lobby. The car was freezing, and
this place isn't much better. I'm not used to the cold these
days."
"There's hot coffee upstairs." Rafael Chang led the way
to the elevator. "If you'll excuse me, I'll make sure every-
thing is ready for you in the visitor's suite. Jim will show
you the lab. It has a small kitchen, General, if you're
interested in food."
"Not in the slightest. They stuffed me on the flight up.
And please, cut out the 'General' bit. I dropped that when
I retired. Can't stand people who treat their old titles as a
lifeline. These days it's plain Tom Armstrong."
"Yes, Sir." Rafael caught the sideways look from Jim
Bevin. That adjustment wasn't going to be an easy one.
"Did you have a good journey?"
"What do you think? Twelve hours from Boca Raton,
Florida -- seventy-two degrees when I left this morning -- to
Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. What's the temperature out-
side now? Can't be more than twenty, and the forecasts
say it's going to be colder tomorrow."
They ascended in the elevator, leaving Rafael Chang at
the fourth floor. As Armstrong and Bevin entered the lab
the old man looked alertly around him, from benches to
monitors and consoles. There was little sign of the wires
and breadboard assemblies found in a traditional elec-
tronics shop. Everything was small and neat, the compact
units connected by massive fiber optic bundles. They paused
before a dull gray cabinet, on which an English visitor
had written in black magic marker "DOMINUS RULES O.K."
Tom Armstrong stared at it, his pale blue eyes thoughtful.
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