"Benford G - Furious Gulf" - читать интересную книгу автора (Benford Gregory)

your know-how."
The seals were always popping, because the pressure regulators
had to be tuned just exactly right. Human waste was a vital ingredient
in the biotanks. It had to be pressurized, filtered, and the final product
flattened into squishy mats--which the farm teams spread around among
the big bowl-shaped crop zones. The Argo was a long-voyage ship,
designed to keep every drop of water, every sigh of air sealed tight inside
its skin.

 I 6
Gregory Benford

Easy to understand, hard to do. Most of the Argo crew were relatives,
all that remained of Family Bishop. They came from Snowglade, a bleak
world Toby remembered rather fondly. Toby was of the youngest
generation of Family Bishop. That gave him the flexibility of being fresh
and green, but the sour fact of the matter was that Bishops had few skill.s to
help them run the Argo.
All Families had been techno-nomads, learning just enough to survive
while they were on the move. Always running, dodging, staying ahead of
mechs. Not that most mechs paid them any special attention. Humans at
Galactic Center were more like rats in the walls, not major players in
anything.
Argo was as friendly to its passengers as a ship could be, a fine artifact
from the High Arcology Era. Trouble was, its systems assumed the
passengers had educations that Family Bishop could only guess at.
Example: the sewage. Neither Cap'n Killeen nor Cermo nor anybody
else had been able to make head or tail of the instructions for the pressure
system.
It assumed something called the Perfect Gas Law, the instructions
said. The foul stuff that actually flowed through the smooth, clear pipes
was certainly not perfect, and it obeyed no law anybody ever heard of. It
spewed out without provocation and often with what seemed to be
insulting timing. Last week, a howling brown leak sprayed the Family
when it was assembled for a wedding. That took a certain fine edge off the
celebration.
Toby joined the other poor souls who had drawn maintenance this
week. He breathed through his mouth but that helped only a while, until
the smell got up into his head. His teacher Aspect, Isaac, spoke to him in
his mind while he bent over, pushing the foul stuff with a sponge brush.

I have conferred with the most ancient records you carry in chip-library.
Interestingly, the term you use is actually derived from
the name of the man on Old Earth who invented the fiush toilet.
An Englishman, legend has it, he made a fortune and benefited all
humankind. His name, Thomas Crapper, has come to be--

"Hey, give me a break."

I thought perhaps some distraction would make your task easier. "Look, I want distraction, I'll play one of the old Mose Art musics." You mistake the name, I fear. That should be Wolfgang Ama--