"Ben Bova - Life As We Know It" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bova Ben)

BEN BOVA

LIFE AS WE KNOW IT

They were all there, all the Grand Old Men of the field: McKay, Kliest,
Taranto--even Sagan, little more than an ancient withered husk in his electric
wheelchair. But the fire still burned in his deep, dark eyes.

All the egos and superegos who had given their lifetimes to the search for
extraterrestrial life. Often they had been derided by the media, scorned by the
politicians, even scoffed at by their fellow scientists; this was going to be
their day. One way or the other.

Jupiter was going to reveal its secrets to them. Today. Life on another world at
last. Make or break.

I could feel the tension in the room, like just before a thunderstorm, that
electrical smell in the air that makes the hair on your arms stand on end.
Careers would be made today, or broken. Mine included. That's whey everyone was
here, waiting impatiently, chattering nervously, staring at the display screens
that still showed nothing but crackling streaks of random noise.

The mission control center was a big room, huge really, but now it was jammed
with bodies, hot and sweaty, buzzing with voices in half a dozen languages. The
project scientists, all the top government officials, invitees like Sagan,
hangers-on who inveigled their way in, everybody who thought or hoped they'd
capture some of the glory of the moment, and more than a hundred news reporters
and photographers, all crammed into the mission control chamber, all talking at
once. Like a tribe of apes, jabbering, gesticulating, posturing to hide their
dreams and ambitions and fear.

They didn't want to miss the first images from beneath the cloud tops of
Jupiter. Even if it killed them, they had to be at mission control when the
probe's first pictures came in.

Most of the reporters clustered around Sagan, of course, although quite a few
hung near Lopez-Oyama, the center's director. Our boss.

Beautiful Allie stayed at Lopez-Oyama's side. Allison Brandt, she of the golden
hair and pendulous breasts. I dreamed about Allie, saw her flawlessly naked,
smiling at me willingly. In my waking hours I thought about her endlessly,
picturing myself doing things with her that not even my dreams dared to imagine.

But she stayed beside the director, next to the power and the attention. I was
merely an engineer, neither powerful nor glamorous. Still, I longed for Allie.
Lusted after her. Even as she smiled for the photographers I noticed how she had
artfully undone an extra couple of buttons on the front of her blouse.