Previous Chapter
Related Chapters
Corporation 16
Supply disruption was Roger Moore's main headache from the very beginning of the contract, and every single day he began with endless reconciliation checks.In the bowels of some "Eriksson" or "Ar-Rajha" in terms of such issues, he would have sat a whole department of "yellow tokens", arguing to move big data, while an adviser of his level would not even be interested in what and how they reduce there, I looked through the next report out of the corner of my eye, if they screwed up, heads will roll, and the whole tale.But this position was unlike any other. Where thousands of clerks would work on any petty issue in every normal corporation, hundreds of overseers and overseers over overseers, here Roger Moore had only himself and petaflops of calculated capacities, executive and soulless, at the disposal of Roger Moore. They were not mistaken, but they did not show any initiative, they always had to make any decisions themselves.And now, when the monitoring system threw out a banner
Corporation 17
At the same time, the adviser knew for certain that if this all followed a plan, then this plan was constantly being revised.How many times have the same units, sometimes just assembled, been disassembled again, updated or moved from place to place, again and again suggesting the total madness of that unknown architect who was behind this whole project.But Roger Moore, having got used to it, didn’t complain anymore, and now, having briefly glanced over the dashboard, he easily managed to make sure that the completely new - less than a month old - power units of active radiators - have safely passed into the disassembly stage, because after recalculating the introductory the temperature regime has changed, and now metallic sodium has been appointed as the coolant with all the ensuing requirements for the specific output power.And so every day, as long as the adviser remembered the history of the crazy project.The scale was also striking - gigawatts of power, hundreds of thousands o
Corporation 18
The radius of Guangzhou-Zhanjiang, for my taste, was the most inhospitable place on this planet. Two hundred million people, a complex patchwork of zones controlled by Yanguang and Tri-Trade, a wild amount of industrial abandonment from the time of the Great Experiment, the terrible ecology associated with this, and yes, orderly rows of towers of the first wave of development, twined to the waist with a communication network.The Slinkers called these two hundred kilometers along the coast "glade", so freely any representative of our respected profession felt here. Corporate freemen on the ruins of the former autonomous regions, the rampant level of corruption and banal slovenliness on the ground, the overall density of buildings plus the abundance of "gray", no-man's objects turned the "glade" into the Asian branch of Central Africa during the post-war Black Boom.For a slinker, there was always work here, and it wasn’t about money at all - perhaps only the magical Bohai or the Islan
Corporation 19
And no one around, not a single extra signal. Even the lidar of the Corporation's agents, which glided over the client's car, I still spotted. There was nothing at all here. Even the blackness of the signal blockade, like there, in the client's apartment.An ordinary residential tower, also half empty, but still filled with the usual household signals. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see anyone else.It was impossible to pull the rubber further.Either move forward or leave. But you can stand like this, listening, endlessly.And then I made up my mind.Unauthorized movement across foreign territory, even for an experienced slinker, is not an easy task. Other representatives of our kind of activity study this all their lives, mastering the difficult science of penetrating secure communications, hacking systems from the outside and from the inside. Others seem to be born with this knowledge, possessing, if you like, a special angle of view, when instead of breaking through a
Corporation 20
The chirper chirped somewhere at the very edge of hearing, teasing with its inaccessibility. Like a mosquito in the night - it flutters its wings, squeaks disgustingly, and go and see it, a bloodsucker.Whoever was that kind person that glided over the crowns, and even in our remote places, he preferred to zealously protect his incognito. He flew his flight in lowlands and at low speed, as if suspecting the surrounding farms of the bad intention of catching the flyer and giving it publicity.And don't say it's wrong. Pozat spring arrived on the regiment of armored motorized hussars, the gentleman from the capital with a special order. Well, how, capital, not from the city of Moscow itself, but closer, from the regimental district that guards the Pipe. He arrived and arrived, only he has since been searched by city-towners. No like no. Yes, and motorized hussars have since worn out in appearance - who drank himself, who went without permission. They are not expected to return without t
Corporation 21
- Well, let's say, what does your secret police have to do with the strictness there?- And besides, there is no special secret police, all corporations have been taken over, from Moscow itself to the Japanese islands.Rodion only raised his eyebrows in surprise.- Isn't there any?“And Pipes, if you think about it, not either.- Explain.“What is there to explain here,” Vanya threw up his hands, “it seems to me that the Pipe has been empty for a long time, so, fiction. A reason to stand here, to guard everything around.“Wait, I don’t understand anything. And the rent? Moskov does not just cut coupons, but from the cash flow. If there is nothing in the Pipe, where does the money come from?“From there, look around. What do you see?Rodion looked around with interest.- Well, your farm.- You can't see anything! Because there is nothing here. And so to the Sayan. It wasn't, it isn't and it won't be. For that and supervision. And this loot is exaggerated - there is bullshit and lure. T
Corporation 22
Your mother.Pominkas were such a well-established ritual that for Ansel all local jokes should have become familiar long ago, just another boring day at a boring job, but where there, over the years they only pissed off more and more, leading to new rounds of soul-searching, they say, you need to quit everything and think of something better to do.But what else can an expat do in the capital city of Moscow? Most of those whom Ansel managed to meet in the Lenin zheev bar or a couple of similar inconspicuous establishments “for their own”, one way or another worked in consulting and moderation, in other words, they worked in razvodyashy positions, in larger and smaller offices, mostly local unofficial representative offices of the metropolis, and then whoever is lucky.Working for pominkas was no worse than any other occupation, as always, it depends on the client. The main thing in this business is not to belong to one of the competing clans, which in the world of mutual responsibili
Corporation 23
And what is most unpleasant is a barely noticeable difference in the data, overlooking this is not a problem at all. But now this very problem confronted Ansel in all its unpleasant glory. Had he faced a common case of fraud with social capital, as often happens here, Ansel would have silently called the social police and all matters, let them sort things out among themselves, but look around, this is a rich, serious clan, why do they need these spillikins. The whole story was sharply overshadowed by big troubles, and Ansel did not need them at all.Without a robe, in a white shirt and skinny trousers, he could easily pass for the staff that ran around here with tablecloths and samovar. Here, a towel on hand, that's better. The main thing is not to catch the eye of these cute paunches, right? So, drone in your pocket, eyes on the floor and go-go-go. Some kind of ochrannick was standing at the elevators, but he didn’t even look in his direction, that’s fine.Only when the elevator habi