"John DeChancie - Skyway 1 - Starrigger" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dechancie John)

heaved past, towering black monoliths spaced at various intervals alongside the road, their bases
hovering a few centimeters off the crushed earth, all different sizes, invisibly spinning at unimaginable
speeds. The trick was to keep your velocity constant so that the cylinders could balance out the
conflicting tidal stresses they generated. If you slowed or speeded up, you were in danger of getting a
head bounced off the roof or a port. Worse, you could overturn, or lose control and go off the road
altogether. In either case, thereтАЩd be nothing left of you to send back to the folks but some squashed
nucleons and a puff of degenerate electron gas, and itтАЩs hard to find the right size box for those.
At the end of the line of cylinders there was a patch of fuzzy blackness, a kind of nothing-space.
We dove into it.
And got through. The desert was gone and we were flying over road that cut through dense green
jungle under a low and leaden sky. We had a 500-kilometer stretch until we hit Mach City, where I had
planned to stop for a sleeper. Sam took over and I settled back. тАЬBy the way,тАЭ Sam whispered, her
nameтАЩs Darla. Talked to her a bit while you were brooding aft.
Told her IтАЩd been flushed and reprogrammed, didnтАЩt have her name in my banks anymore.тАЭ
I nodded. тАЬSo,тАЭ I said, turning to her, тАЬhowтАЩs life been treating you, Darla?тАЭ She smiled warmly, and
those perfect white teeth brightened up the cab. тАЬJake,тАЭ she said, тАЬdear Jake. YouтАЩre going to think IтАЩm
getting even with you for clamming up all that time back there... but IтАЩm beat to hell. Would you mind
awfully if I went back and tried to catch up on sleep?тАЭ тАЬHell, no. Be my guest.тАЭ That was that.
тАЬYou stopping at Mach City? WeтАЩll talk over dinner. OK?тАЭ
тАЬSure.тАЭ
She batted long eyelashes at me for a second, flashing her supernova-bright grin, but I could see a
shadow of uncertainty behind it all, as if she were entertaining doubts about who I was. She was
obviously at a loss to explain my strange behavior. ItтАЩs almost impossible to fake knowing someone
when you donтАЩt, or more often, when youтАЩve met someone and donтАЩt remember. Awkward situations at
cocktail parties. But in this case I definitely knew I had never seen her before. But the doubts were
momentary. She blew me a kiss in one hell of an ingratiating way and went aft.
And left me to watch the scenery and ruminate.
тАЬWell, buddyтАФ?тАЭ Sam meant for me to fill in the blank.
тАЬI donтАЩt know. Just donтАЩt know, Sam.тАЭ
тАЬShe could be a plant.тАЭ
I considered it. тАЬNo. Wilkes is subtle enough to concoct a yam like that, but he wouldnтАЩt go to all
that bother.тАЭ
тАЬStill...тАЭ Sam wasnтАЩt sure.
тАЬSheтАЩs giving a very convincing performance if she is.тАЭ I yawned. тАЬIтАЩm going to wink out, too.тАЭ I
eased back the chair and closed my eyes.
I didnтАЩt sleep, just thought about times past and time future, about life on the Skyway. I may have
dozed off for a few Minutes now and then, but there was too much to chew over. Most of what went
through my head isnтАЩt worth repeating; just the usual roadbuzz. Anyway, it killed about an hour. Then
the sign or Mach City whizzed by, and I took back the controls.
 2
SONNYтАЩS MOTEL AND Restaurant is just off the road-to the Groombridge 34 portal. ItтАЩs rather
luxurious, in an upholstered-sewerish kind of way, but the rates are relatively cheap, and the food is
good. I pulled into the lot and scrammed the engine. It looked like it was early rooming, local time. I
woke Darla up and told Sam to mind the store while we tried to get something to eat. The lot was
crammed and I anticipated a long wait for a table. Along with the usual assortment of rigs, there were
private ground vehicles in the lot, all makes and models, mostly alien-built. On Skyway, the
transportation market had been cornered long ago by a handful of races, at least in this part of the
galaxy, and competition was stiff for human outfits trying to wedge in. I paused to look Sam over. We
had pulled in next to a rig of Ryxxian make, a spanking new one with an aerodynamic cowling garishly
decaled in gilt filigree. A custom job, a little too showy for my taste, but it made Sam look sick,