"David Brin - The Loom of Thessaly" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brin David)

in the creek beds, wishing to show that expertise meant as much as did fancy technology.
Frank's eyebrows rose. Impressed, he showed it with typical American ingenuousness.
Americans had no second skin, no Mediterranean wall of caution. Pavlos loved them for it.
"Yes, that's right," Frank had said. "And here you see how the population density and
terrain accessibility profiles rise and fall together nicely everywhere.
He pulled out another photo.
"Here is the city of Thessalonica, with almost a million people. Now weighted only against
local resources, there's no good explanation for its population advantage over, say, Larisa a
bit farther south. But taking into account factors such as travel times along various egress
points, terrain....
"Yes, yes. I get the point." Pavlos was pleased. He had managed to get the information
out of Frank without asking for it, and picked up an opportunity to mutter with fatherly
impatience at the same time. Such minor stylistic victories helped make a pleasure out of a
lazy afternoon.
"So what I can't figure out is why you thought it so important to show this to me at my
apartment, and in such secrecy, hmmm?"
 Frank sat down.
"Oh, hell. You know this is low-priority stuff, Pav. Ever since you helped us find that
capsule in the Sahara, you've known that my main job is to experiment with space-borne
antimissile systems. When I started getting strange results in my accessibility studies, I just
couldn't get anybody interested."
"All right." Pavlos smiled. "Then I am your informal consultant. Now show me these 'strange
results' of yours."
Frank pulled a large envelope from his briefcase. He drew the first of several glossy prints
from it.
"This is from the same general region, only about thirty kilometers to the southwest of the
corner of that large overlay. I want you to take a close look at this area, in particular, before
I show you a bigger blowup." Pavlos bent to peer at the plateau Frank pointed out, bringing
over his magnifying glass.
His smile faded as he studied the photo.
"I cannot say for certain, as your lines of probability get in the way... but it appears that
this water course loops back upon itself! It makes almost a natural moat around the hilltop."
Frank nodded. "I've tried to use the newer telescope we have on board. It's tied in to our
experimental beam weapons system..." Almost unconsciously, Frank lowered his voice,
although he knew that Pavlos's apartment was secure.
"I could count the number of black fleas on the backside of a dog with that machine. But
it's a bitch and a half getting the thing tuned properly, at this stage. I'm not at all sure I'd be
able to devote that kind of time and effort using it on what's essentially a side project,
especially when NASA's already paranoid over security. At least I'd like to get some sort of
preliminary confirmation before taking the risk."
Pavlos nodded. As a reserve NATO officer who occasionally helped out in expeditions to
desolate regions, he had seen examples of amazing photography from space. And he had the
feeling they hadn't ever shown him all they could do.
"So let us see the best you have." He waved with his right hand as Frank pulled out the
fourth photo. "You have me curious about this mystery of yours."
It showed a plateau in the middle of a set of concentric, parched creek beds, surrounded
by rugged, goat-ravaged hills. At the corners of the photo there were signs of humanity, as
one would expect everywhere in a land that had been inhabited at high density for four
thousand years. In two places there were the ubiquitous shepherd's shacks for overnight
shelter. Goat tracks lay everywhere.