"David Brin - The Crystal Spheres" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brin David)

of statuesque, austere beauty that had not been in fashion on Earth during any of my
last four lives. Clearly she had never indulged in biosculpting.
I admit freely that in that first instant I did not recognize her, though we had thrice
been married over the slow waityears.
The first thing I knew, the very first thing of all, was that she wore our uniform...
the uniform of a Service that had been "moth-balled" (O quaint term!) thousands of
years ago.
Silver against dark blue, and eyes that matched... "Alice," I breathed after a long
moment. "Is it true at last?"
She came forward and took my hand. She must have known how weak and tense
I felt.
"Yes, Joshua. One of the probes has found another cracked shell."
"There is no mistake? It's a goodstar?"
She nodded her head, saying yes with her eyes. Black ringlets framed her face,
shimmering like the trail of a rocket.
"The probe called a class-A alert." She grinned. "There are Shards all around the
star, shattered and glimmering like the Oort-sky of Sol. And the probe reports that
there is a world within! One that we can touch!"
I laughed out loud and pulled her to me. I could tell the campers behind me came
from times when one did not do such things, for they muttered in consternation.
 "When? When did the news come?"
"We found out months ago, just after you thawed. Worldcomp still said that we
had to give you a year of wakeup, but I came the instant it was over. We have waited
long enough, Joshua. Moishe Bok is taking out every deepspacer nowalive.
"Joshua, we want you to come. We need you. Our expedition leaves in three
days. Will you join us?"
She need not have asked. We embraced again. And this time I had to blink back
tears.
Of recent weeks, as I wandered, I had pondered what profession I would pursue
in this life. But joy of joys, it never occurred to me I would be a deepspacer again! I
would wear the uniform once more, and fartravel to the stars!
The project was under a total news blackout. The Sol-Gov psychists were of the
opinion that the race could not stand another disappointment. They feared an
epidemic of greatdepression, and a few of them even tried to stop us from mounting
the expedition.
Fortunately, the Worldcomps remembered their ancient promise. We deepspacers
long ago agreed to stop exploring, and raising people's hopes with our efforts. In
return, the billion robot farprobes were sent out, and we would be allowed to go
investigate any report they sent back of a cracked shell.
By the time Alice and I arrived at Charon, the others had almost finished
recommissioning the ship we were to take. I had hoped we would be using the
Robert Rodgers, or Ponce de Leєn, two ships I had once commanded. But they had
chosen instead to use the old Pelenor. She would be big enough for the purposes
we had in mind, without being unwieldy.
Sol-Gov tugs were loading about ten thousand corpsicles even as the shuttle
carrying Alice and me passed Pluto and began rendezvous maneuvers. Out here, ten
percent of the way to the Edge, the Shards glimmered with a brightsheen of
indescribable colors. I let Alice do the piloting, and stared out at the glowing
fragments of Sol's shattered crystalsphere.
When my grandfather was a boy, Charon had been a site of similar activity.