"Diane Duane - Harbinger 2 - Storm At Eldala" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duane Diane)

thought he would probably never master the cool grace-in-fire that Enda displayed. It constantly
bemused him how someone so peaceful and serene could be so very good at gunnery.
"Guns are the soul of rationality," Enda had said to him late one night. "They have a certainty of purpose,
and they fulfill itтАФ when they don't jamтАФand like any other fine weapon, they pass on some of that
certainty to their users, if the user is wise enough to hear what the gun has to say to him."

To hear this coming from a delicate ethereal-looking fraal who might mass forty-five kilos if she put on all
the clothes she owned, turned Gabriel's brain right around in his head. What guns mostly said to him
was, Shoot me, shoot me! Yes, oh yes!тАФ with various appropriate sound effects. Nonetheless, Enda's
communion with her gunnery was something to be envied, and Gabriel occasionally listened to see if the
guns had anything further to say to him on the subject.

He walked down into the living area and found Enda already ensconced in one of the two fold-down
chairs in the sitting room, talking to Helm again over comms and looking as fresh as if she had not been in
battle for the better part of half an hour.

"How do you do it?" he asked her.

She looked at him with amusement. "I pull the chair down, like thisтАФ"

"Never mind," Gabriel said. "When did he say he was coming?"

"Twenty minutes. We can finish debriefing as soon as you're done playing with the new hardware."

"Good," Gabriel said, grinning, and walked on down to the little laundry room to get rid of his present
shipsuit, which smelled as if it had seen better days.

Gabriel shoved his clothes down the chute, clamped the hatch closed and hit "Cycle." Straightening, he
looked at the newly installed shower cubicle and dallied with the idea of a real water shower. Might as
well do it while we're close to someplace where water's cheap. If it ever really was, when you were part
owner in a spacecraft, when mass cost money to lift, and noncompressible mass twice as much.

Finally, he opted for a steam-and-scrape cycle, with ten seconds of water at the end. Gabriel punched
the options in, let the machine get itself ready. To save time, he stood over the sink, wet his head, and
took a squirt of shampoo out of the in-bulkhead dispenser.

Getting grayer, Gabriel thought, scrubbing for a few moments in front of the mirror. And why not? The
last six months would probably be enough to gray anybody out a little bit. Still, his father hadn't gone gray
this fast, and he couldn't remember his mother ever saying anything about early gray running in her family.
Gabriel had never thought about this before, but now that he was interested, there was no way to
askтАФor maybe no one to ask. He hadn't heard from his father since before . . .

The shower chimed, letting him know it was ready for him. Gabriel got in, closed the door tight, and hit
the control for the steam.

After a few minutes, through the ship's structure Gabriel could feel the very faint bump and rock, which
meant someone was at the airlock. He's early, Gabriel thought, turning to catch the steam. Probably
wants to chat with Enda without me in the way.

The steam stopped. Gabriel lathered up in a hurry from the scrub dispenser set in the wall and peered