"Michael Flynn - Wreck of The Rivers of Stars" - читать интересную книгу автора (Flynn Michael)

was anything wrong with that.)

Finally, when he had drunk in the sight of her almost more than his heart could bear, Corrigan checked
the drape of his coverall, brushed at imagined detritus, and pulled himself inside the comm center.

The Communications Department comprised several rooms and had once been a suite reserved
forspecial friends of the original owners. It had since been stripped, and utilitarianism had replaced
luxury. Computer panels now gleamed where clever art had hung. Electric hums had replaced the
fashionable music. This might actually have been an improvement.

The shipтАЩs processors were physically dispersed, of course. No designer was such a fool as to place a
shipтАЩs entire neurosystem in one placeтАФsub-units could be found scattered like Easter eggs here and
there about the shipтАФbut the comm center (and its slave station on the bridge itself) was a primary
nexus. The Lotus Jewel could talk to any avatar of the shipтАЩs AI. Teeping, she could see through the
shipтАЩs eyes, hear with its ears, speak with its lips. If she was not the shipтАЩs brainsтАФan image risible to
more than one of her crewmatesтАФshe was at least its spinal cord.

тАЬWhat seems to be the problem here?тАЭ Corrigan said.

The Lotus Jewel concentrated a moment longer on her handheld and downloaded the data into the core
with a whispered command. She had been aware of CorriganтАЩs regard for several minutes and had, while
not losing focus on her work, displayed herself for his delight. The Lotus Jewel enjoyed life more fully
than her own life could hold, and so some of it always spilled over into othersтАЩ. She delighted in making
people happy. Sometimes that meant nothing more than laughing at a joke or doing a small favor.
Sometimes it meant a pleasant word or a pleasant glimpse. Sometimes, as with Corrigan, it meant a
pleasant night.

тАЬThe superloop is still giving power,тАЭ The Lotus Jewel told him, тАЬbut IтАЩm not transmitting.тАЭTonight, she
told Corrigan with a posture.

The infatuation was not all on the second officerтАЩs part. The Lotus Jewel enjoyed his company and his
literate discourse and the strange, erotic frisson of the touch of his leathery skin. It was like the touch of
an object: A thing that lived rather than a living thing.

тАЬIs the malf serious?тАЭ he asked.

She shook her head. (And it was only through imagination that Corrigan saw long, golden locks waving


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in the air. Her skull was smooth-shaven and contained sockets for the interface cap, an exoticism that
Corrigan found strangely alluring.) тАЬNot until we raise Dinwoody Poke,тАЭ she said, тАЬto drop off the
passenger. Radars and sensors, all in working order. Receiving is intermittent. IтАЩll have transmission
back before we need to talk to the port master.тАЭ

Corrigan drew a long face. тАЬAny connection with the engine malf?тАЭ

тАЬI donтАЩt see how. The systems are distinct. Comm, power, navigationтАжThereтАЩs no crosstalk, except