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

attitude of friendly competition. Who would be first
to remem ber and requisition the right grade of
granite (and some
slab marble, as a treat) for the ship's single
Horta crewmember, who sometimes complained in a
goodnatured way that man was not meant to live on
nickeliron alone? Who would know where to find
"pinhead" oatmeal for the chief engineer's occasionally-and
loudly-demanded porridge? Where could one obtain the
best price for hundred-ton lots of Arabica
coffee? (spock's simple but admittedly
elegant storage method for coffee-beaming it
aboard in small lots, each time purposely
aborting the upload in mid-transport, but holding
the coffee's completely analyzed pattern in the
transporter's data solids until wanted-had
become standard Fleet practice for
"extraneous" cargo in starships on tour, and had
changed coffee from a rarely enjoyed and much-longed-for
luxury into something that the whole drew could have when they
pleased. But after all, McCoy and Kirk were both
very fond of coffee . . . and this kept it fresh.)
And there were even more pleasant forms of maintenance
to handle: most specifically, the refreshing of the
ship's data libraries. Spock had himself spent
nearly a hundred hours scanning the refresh lists
sent him by the British Museum on behalf of the
Smithsonian, the Library of Congress, the
Ryeshva Moskva, der Schweizerisches
Landesmuseum, la Bib- lioth8que
Nationale, reh Xiao-Mih. Then had come the
uploading, the checking, the indexing, and just as
important, the exchange of information-for after
debriefing, Enterprise declassified all but the
most sensitive material on returning to her
registry port. At the end of it all, some
seventy-two hours without a stop, he had slept,
as McCoy would probably have observed, like a log.
Though how a log slept was beyond him, and certainly
past McCoy.
Now, approaching the end of the reprovisioning
process, Spock let the lists go
momentarily and gazed
at the North Atlantic for a while, watching the
tiny, precise patterns of weather flow by in
curls and curves of white and gray, while in the
background the stars j seemed to turn around a fixed
globe. The view was j familiar. Spock had
taken to predicting the Earth's weather lately, as a
pastime and an exercise of his logic. There was a