"William Forstchen - Article 23" - читать интересную книгу автора (Forstchen William R)

"You've seen it from the Academy all summer long."

"Yeah, I know. But just think, this tower is anchored on the ground and goes up thirty-seven thousand
kilometers. It's incredible that we're riding on it. Sort of like we're still attached somehow to back down
there. And besides, it's beautiful to look at."

Brian laughed softly and shook his head.

"You'll get over it."

"I hope I never do," Justin replied, looking Brian straight in the eyes.

A thin smile creased Brian's face.

"After it's scared you a couple of times it might not be so beautiful anymore," he said.

"Even then, I hope I don't forget how to look at it the way I am right now," Justin insisted.

"Ah, a poet here," Matt interjected with a laugh.

Brian shook his head.

"Plebes. Thank heavens I've grown beyond it."

Relaxing in the chair Justin half-listened to the stories Brian and Matt swapped back and forth, with Matt
holding the upper hand when it came to yarns about his life as a solar sailor. The gee-load gradually lulled
him into a stupor, and through half-closed eyes he wondered how Matt, who had grown up in a zero-gee
environment, was handling it. His friend was obviously putting on a show of bravado in front of Seay,
straining to remain upright. Over a cup of coffee Brian launched into another story, and Justin felt himself
drifting away.

"All passengers please return to your seats for deceleration and docking with sky tower station."
Justin looked up, amazed that the hours had passed so quickly.

Matt and Brian gulped down their drinks and started back up to the main deck area with Justin tagging
along. As they settled back in their chairs Brian and Matt were already into a boasting war as to which of
the two had experienced the narrowest and most hair raising incident and Justin found himself feeling very
much like an outsider. He strapped into his chair and leaned back.

"All passengers are now secured," the computer announced, and Justin's chair pivoted in a half-circle so
that he was now hanging upside down, the back of the chair pointing straight up. The reverse-magnetic
motors kicked on, pushing Justin up as the car started to slow down. From his window he could see

Earth far below, small enough now that if he held his hand out he could completely block it from view.
Beyond it was the endless ocean of stars.

The long minutes of two-gee deceleration dragged out and he found himself drifting to the edge of sleep.
Then the warning bell sounded to indicate that deceleration was complete.