"Duane, Diane - Tos - Spock's World" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duane Diane)

estimate that you will be there before me."
"As do I," said Spock. He paused, then
said,
"Tell Mother that I think of her."
j The silent sound of an eyebrow goingbp some
where in Los Angeles. "It would be illogical
of you i not to," said Sarek, with an edge of humor
on the dryness. "Ou."
Spook touched the button on the arm of the helm and
eyed the south of Britain, toward Wales. That little
cloud, reaching back eastward from Gwynedd and
across the Irish Sea: that was perhaps the symptom of

the solution. That persistent backwash, leading into the
major northeastern flow-Spock examined its
path, calculated probabilities, and then
reluctantly put the half-born algorithm
aside. A wonderfully complex problem: but life
had handed him a thornier one. The weather would have
to wait. He got up, leaving the empty helm behind
him, went to his Science station, and began making
calls.
It was blowing up a gale outside the pub. Wind
whipped rain against windows gone glassy black with
night, and rattled the damper in the fireplace.
Once he heard a skitter and crash as a roof
slate blew loose and smashed against the chimney,
then clattered down into the rain-gutter in an arpeggio
of chunks and splinters. But on the whole, James
T. Kirk was beyond caring. He was sitting in a
chimney-corner seat with his feet out in front of a
coal fire, and an Irish whiskey in one hand: he
was warm and snug, and he didn't have to go anywhere, and
there was nothing to do but relax and listen to the wind mutter
and moan in the flue. "There's the Jim, then," said
a familiar voice behind him. "Ronan," Jim
said, looking up. "They keeping you busy?"
"Not tonight." Ronan Boyne sat down next
to Jim in the twin to the chair he was sitting in, an
old overstuffed horsehair business, heaven only
knew how old. Ronan ran the place, which
everyone called the Willow Grove even though
"Deveraux's" was painted over the front door.
He put down his ever-present oranges-and-lemons
drink and ran his hands through his hair: black hair,
for Ronan was about as black Irish as they came,
with a big bland face and big strong hands. "It's
only the fools and the desperate cases out
t