"Baxter, Stephen - Raft" - читать интересную книгу автора (Baxter Stephen)

Rees hurried away, his head full of glowing mysteries.
As he studied, Rees' resentment faded to a dull ache. There was too much
to learn. The Scientists were undoubtedly a bunch of elitist old buffoons,
largely deserving the contempt of the rest of the population - but they'd
kept knowledge alive.
And without knowledge, Rees soon realised, they would soon die here.
One shift he found himself queuing for food before the ragged bulk of a
supply machine. Absently he stared at the scorch marks which showed where
the device had been burnt from the guts of the warship. Weary people
muttered; the star falling from the Vanishing Point had become a beacon
that blazed down on them, banishing the nebula's pastel shades.
A short man with a wiry beard turned to Rees and said: "Why the hell don't
the Scientists move us out from under that thing? And why doesn't the
Captain get off his fat backside and do something about it, I'd like to
know -"
Rees collected his ration and hastened away. But he thought of the last
time he'd seen Captain Smith - a deflated figure with helpless eyes
watching the discomfort of his crew ...
He hurried back towards the Labs. Deserted streets were punctuated by
knots of young men - some in Officer's colours - who argued and waved
fists.
"Hey, Rees. Rees!" Glancing about shiftily, a squat young man sidled out
of a building.
Warily Rees stopped and put down his containers; the gravitation of the
sloshing water tweaked at his legs. "What do you want, Glover?"
"Well, well." Glover laughed, scratching at the stubble on one cheek.
"Four years gone, eh? Four years of washing and carrying for the old farts
in the Labs. And two more to go. At the age of eighteen you'll still be
skivvying -"
Glover's shabby jacket was decorated with a junior Officer's ribbons. Rees
felt acutely aware of his own lack of colours. "It's not like that.
There's more to them than we realised, as kids -"
Glover sneered. "Yeah?"
"People despise the Scientists. Something's gone wrong, somehow. They even
have to trick people to become apprentices -"
"Like you."
"Like me, yes." Rees could smell the sourness of Glover's breath.
Disturbed, he tried to tell Glover some of what he'd learned: of another
universe where the stars were a million miles across, not five or ten; of
constellations that lasted - not months - but billions of years.
But none of it seemed real. He struggled for words.
"Crap." Glover breathed hard through flaring nostrils. "Forget the fairy
stories, Rees. Most people on this Raft aren't too fond of the Scientists.
Why are the trees dying? Why are the food machines failing? Even the air's
foul half the time. And why don't they move us out from under that damn
star up there?"
Rees felt tremors of unease. "What are you saying?"
Glover's eyes narrowed and he moved so close that Rees felt the pull of
his squat bulk. "Do you know what this is?" He took a bottle from his
jacket and handed it to Rees. Rees removed a plug of cloth from the neck