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

on your tour of duty. He caught a
shuttlecraft from the Enterprise to the Fleet
orbital facility, then took the transporter
to San Francisco Interplanetary, and the BA
hyperbolic shuttle from SFO to London; after that,
the Spas Lingus ioqjumper from Luton
Spaceport to Dublin, and finally a rental
dual-mode flit for the run south down the coast
road. In fact, the travel was really only two
hours' worth: most of that last hour of the three had
been spent sitting caught between annoyance and
bemusement on an abeyance apron at Luton,
waiting for launch clearance. Jim had been a little
careless about his timing, and got caught in the commuter
rush hour, all the businessmen heading home
to Europe and Asia from the City.
But it had been more than worth it for the view
on the drive down, as ahead and to the right the Wicklow
mountains rose up before him, all slate- and
emerald-shadowed in a long fierce sunset that piled
up in purple and gold behind them; and on the left
hand, the sea, a blue gray like quiet eyes,
breaking silent with distance at the stony feet of
Bray Head. There were not too many houses to mar the
bleak loveliness of hill and water and sky; the
towns themselves seemed to crouch down to one or two
stories, and make themselves small. And Dublin's
fair city, where the girls were so pretty, had grown
in many directions,
but not this one. Only its spires could be seen
away across the tidal flats of Dublin
Bay-civilization kept properly at a distance,
where it would not frighten the horses. The Irish had their
priorities.
Using the road for the delight of getting down between the
hedgerows, Jim had driven past the wil low
Grove, only half noticing the bed-and-breakfast
sign, and half a mile down the road had stopped
and turned and come back. It had looked promising,
in a quiet way: an ancient Georgian house,
big for this part of the-world, with two huge bay windows
at the front, j full of cheerful
drinkers. He had walked in, inquired about
prices and credit systems, and half an hour
later j he was sitting where he was sitting now,
eating clear lamb stew and drinking Guinness, and being
checked out by the locals.
"Jimmy boy, how are you tonight?"
"Fine," he said, automatically, because no mat
ter who was asking, it was definitely true. Looking