"Greg Egan - Cocoon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Egan Greg)

COCOON
Greg Egan
"Cocoon" was purchased by Gardner Dozois, and appeared in the May 1994 issue of Asimov's, with an
illustration by Steve Cavallo; the story went on to appear on the Hugo Final Ballot in 1995, and to win both the
Ditmar Award and the Asimov's Readers Award. Egan has had a string of powerful stories in Asimov's througho
the '90s. In fact, it's already a fairly safe bet to predict that Australian writer Greg Egan is going to come to be
recognized (if indeed he hasn't already been so recognized) as being one of the Big New Names to emerge in SF i
nineties, and one of the most inventive and intriguing of all the new "hard science" writers. His first novel,
Quarantine, appeared in 1992, to wide critical ac-claim, and was followed by a second novel in 1994, Permutation
City, which won the John W. Campbell Memorial Award. His most recent books are a col-lection of his short fic
Axiomatic, and a new novel, Distress. Upcoming is another new novel, Di-aspora.

In the powerful story that follows-one of 1994's most controversial-he unravels a suspenseful and provoca
mystery that revolves around sexual pol-itics, corporate intrigue, and high-tech eugenics, all set against the
background of a troubled future Aus-tralia ...

The explosion shattered windows hundreds of meters away, but started no fire. Later, I
discovered that it had shown up on a seismograph at Macquarie University, fixing the time
precisely: 3:52 a.m. Residents woken by the blast phoned emergency services within minut
and our night shift oper-ator called me just after four, but there was no point rushing to the
scene when I'd only be in the way. I sat at the terminal in my study for almost an hour,
assembling background data and monitoring the radio traffic on headphones, drinking cof-fe
and trying not to type too loudly.
By the time I arrived, the local fire service contractors had departed, having certified th
there was no risk of further explosions, but our forensic people were still poring over the
wreckage, the electric hum of their equipment all but drowned out by birdsong. Lane Cove
a quiet, leafy suburb, mixed residential and high-tech industrial, the lush vegetation of
cor-porate open spaces blending almost seamlessly into the ad-jacent national park that
straddled the Lane Cove River. The map of the area on my car terminal had identified
suppliers of laboratory reagents and Pharmaceuticals, manufacturers of precision instrumen
for scientific and aerospace applications, and no less than twenty-seven biotechnology
firms-includ-ing Life Enhancement International, the erstwhile sprawling concrete building
now reduced to a collection of white pow-dery blocks clustered around twisted reinforcem
rods. The exposed steel glinted in the early light, disconcertingly pris-tine; the building wa
only three years old. I could understand why the forensic team had ruled out an accident at
first glance; a few drums of organic solvent could not have done anything remotely like this
Nothing legally stored in a resi-dential zone could reduce a modern building to rubble in a
matter of seconds.
I spotted Janet Lansing as I left my car. She was surveying the ruins with an expression
stoicism, but she was hugging herself. Mild shock, probably. She had no other reason to be
chilly; it had been stinking hot all night, and the temperature was already climbing. Lansing
was Director of the Lane Cove complex: forty-three years old, with a Ph.D. in molecular
bi-ology from Cambridge, and an M.B.A. from an equally rep-utable Japanese virtual
university. I'd had my knowledge miner extract her details, and photo, from assorted databa
before I'd left home.
I approached her and said, "James Glass, Nexus Investi-gations." She frowned at my
business card, but accepted it, then glanced at the technicians trawling their gas
chromato-graphs and holography equipment around the perimeter of the ruins.
"They're yours, I suppose?"
"Yes. They've been here since four."