"Kathleen Ann Goonan - Nanotech 04 - Light Music" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goose Mother)

revealed half-rooms. It took a moment for her to understand that
the distant, oddly still people lying in impossible poses among the
ruins were dead.
She turned from it, sobbing and angry, and flung the towel to the
floor. All was ruined; lost. The memory of the supercollidor, that
promise of the deep understanding of light, along with her ability to
perhaps fathom such truths, was an ache in her chest. Everything,
everything , was gone.
Including herself.
Her clothing, when it was finished, was not what she had
ordered. Instead she had a long, multicolored Gypsy skirt, cowgirl
boots, a lace shirt that fit tight when buttoned up. And naturally,
she thought with irritation, in no mood for wry humor, a cowgirl
hat. She found a comb in the bathroom and yanked it through her
long, tangled light-brown hair, aware of her tan face and hazel eyes
framed by bangs as she had not been in years and years, seeing as
how in Crescent City appearance was a shell so mutable that it was
thought of as decoration, like clothing. Now it was more
permanently assigned.
She dressed and was trying the hat on for size when the main
door slid open. She started.
But it was Cowboy. тАЬGood. Come on now.тАЭ He held out his hand.
They hurried through ruined, deserted plazas filled with soaked
debris. Children wailed, somewhere. She and Cowboy pressed
themselves against the wall when they glimpsed black-suited
intruders.
Finally they arrived at a high tower and had to climb several
flights of stairs. She put her hand on the doorknob at the top, but it
wouldnтАЩt turn; Cowboy reached around her and his hand made it
turn.
She stepped into a small round room.
Behind her Cowboy whistled through his teeth with something
that sounded like relief. тАЬLooks all right.тАЭ He walked over to a
console and sat down. He put earphones on his head and started
twisting dials. тАЬGot to concentrate,тАЭ he muttered. тАЬCanтАЩt let this
overwhelm meтАжтАЭ
Dania heard strange whines and pings. Lights flashed. He threw
some switches, pushed some buttons; scooted his chair to a keypad
and typed something.
тАЬIs this radio?тАЭ Dania asked, looking out the window and seeing
lots of antennae, realizing with dread that the self she had grown
so used to would have knownтАж lots and lots more about this. тАЬI
thought radio didnтАЩt work.тАЭ
He didnтАЩt reply. Either he was busy or couldnтАЩt hear her.
He looked different in this place. Something about his posture,
the muscles in his face. He looked much, much older.
She walked around, trying to find signs of who he really was.
Shelves of curious devices lined the north wall. Radios. Very old
radios. She remembered seeing them in her childhood, in her
grandparentsтАЩ house in Chattanooga. She saw a small Arvin made,