Читать книгу Incendiary Dispatch - Don Pendleton - Страница 3

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“Oh, no,” groaned Akira Tokaido. “It’s an MUA.”

Multiple Unresponsive Aircraft. The Farm’s own internal acronym for the alert.

The phone shrilled at Kurtzman’s elbow and at the same time a new alarm went off on his computer. And then another.

“Bear?” Barbara Price was on the phone. “Are you seeing what’s happening in China?”

“China?” He scanned the next alert. It reported a large-scale oil pipeline break. His brain tried to play catch-up. Multiple aircraft—and then an oil pipeline?

“What the hell is that?” demanded Tokaido, standing at Kurtzman’s shoulder and stabbing a finger at a list of numbers on the screen. “I wrote this routine. Why the hell don’t I get what it’s showing?” Tokaido liked his world of iron-fisted cybernetics control. There was nothing worse than when one of his own apps went rogue.

“No,” Kurtzman said. “It’s working.”

“Then what is that?” There were six items on the screen. Then there were seven.

“Pipeline breaches. Each a different one.”

Tokaido glared at the computer. Of course he’d programmed the thing to display multiple catastrophic oil pipeline breaches, should they ever happen simultaneously. He’d just never dreamed that would ever happen.

“Talk to me, Bear,” Price snapped. “I’m on my way. Do you see what’s happening in China or not?”

Kurtzman paused. “Everywhere but,” he replied grimly.

Incendiary Dispatch

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