"Ben Bova - Jupiter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bova Ben)

Grant nodded silently.

"Got my assignment this morning," Tavalera said, looking somewhere between worried and hopeful. "It's a scoopship, all right: the Glen P Wilson."

Grant still said nothing. There had been no assignment for him in the morning's communications bulletin. As far as he knew, he was to report aboard the research station and get his assignment there.

"She's an old ship, cranky and creaky, from what I hear. But a good si up. Reliable. High performance rating."

He sounded to Grant as if he were trying to convince himself of something he didn't actually believe.

"Two years," Tavalera went on, "and then I go home, free and clear."

"That's good."

"You'll be out here four years, won'tcha?"

"That's right."

Tavalera shook his head like a man possessed of superior wisdom. "They really suckered you in, didn't they? Four years."

"I won't have to do another two when I'm fifty," Grant pointed out. Then he added, with just a little malice, "But you will."

If Tavalera caught Grant's irritation, he gave no notice of it. He merely waggled one long-fingered hand in the air and said, "Maybe I will and maybe I won't. By the time I'm fifty, I could be too flickin' important for the New Morality to screw with me."

Again Grant found himself wondering if Tavalera was probing his loyalty. Is this conversation being monitored? he asked himself.

Raising his voice a notch, he replied, "I've always felt that Public Service is something you should be glad to do. Give something back to the community. It's important, don't you think?"

Tavalera leaned back in his chair and gave Grant a crafty look. "Yeah, sure. But there's important and really important. Know what I mean?"

The ship quivered. Just a slight tremor, but it was so out of place that both Grant and Tavalera immediately looked up. Grant felt a sharp pang in his gut. Tavalera's eyes flicked wide for an instant.

"Rendezvous maneuver," Tavalera said, after a moment's startled silence.

"Yes, of course," said Grant, trying to make it sound nonchalant.

Pushing himself up from his chair, Tavalera suggested, "Come on, let's go down to the observation bubble and watch."

"But the captain said - "

Laughing, Tavalera headed for the hatch. "C'mon, you don't have to stay in your cage every second of every day. What's she gonna do if she catches us, throw us off the ship?"

The communications chime on the bulkhead screen sounded. "Incoming message for Grant Archer," announced the comm system's synthesized voice.

Grateful for the interruption, Grant said, "Put it on-screen, please."

The screen remained blank. "This is a private communication," the computer warned.

A message from Marjorie, Grant thought. Tavalera will leave me to see it alone; if he doesn't, I can ask him to leave.