"Nicola Griffith - Ammonite" - читать интересную книгу автора (Griffith Nicola)

Nyo canтАЩt rewrite in time, then weтАЩll EVA out from here, open up the exterior hatch
of that lock, and bring you back here.тАЭ
тАЬYouтАЩd risk contaminationтАФтАЭ
тАЬYes.тАЭ
Hiam was serious, Marghe realized, in spite of what she believed about Company
and the fate of contaminated employees. тАЬSara, IтАжтАЭ She floundered. тАЬThank you.тАЭ
Hiam laughed, only this time it was not that awful bark, but longer, lighter, more
friendly. тАЬDonтАЩt thank me yet.тАЭ She clicked off, and once again Marghe was
surrounded by the sound of her own breath. Her breathing was strong and even:
there were people on her side.
Click. тАЬThis is Nyo. Try seven-eight-four-six-nine. WeтАЩll monitor.тАЭ
A four instead of a three. A difference of one digit. Marghe input the sequence:
seven, pause, eight, pause, four, pause тАж The door lights flicked from red to green.
тАЬThank you,тАЭ she said. тАЬThank you.тАЭ
D Section was dark. She had not expected that. She switched over to suit
broadcast. тАЬLights.тАЭ Brilliant white light sliced on, making her blink.
D was square, only four beds. Two mobile hoods like slick cauls by the far
bulkhead. Several workstations. Not dissimilar to crew quarters. Her visor frosted
over. She scrubbed at it clumsily, scanned her readouts: external temperature 24
degrees Celsius, air composition and pressure at normal levels, no apparent toxins.
Just to make sure, she sat down at the nearest workstation.
тАЬOn.тАЭ The gray screen went black, ready. тАЬReadouts of internal atmospheric
composition of this sector. тАЭ Figures blinked obligingly, agreeing with her own
readings. She still felt nervous. тАЬConfirm lock and hull integrity.тАЭ The screen flashed
CONFIRMED. тАЬOff.тАЭ The screen went back to dead gray.
Awkwardly, she took off her left gauntlet. The right was easier. The slick plastic
of her helmet was still cold. She twisted it anticlockwise and cool, clean,
untouched-smelling air spilled in under the opened seal. Marghe lifted off the helmet
and breathed deep. She was safe, for now.

Marghe pulled hair still damp from the shower free of the collar of her crisp new
cliptogether. She commed Hiam.
тАЬIтАЩm ready for the FN-17 now.тАЭ
тАЬIn the food slot.тАЭ Marghe padded over to the slot. Inside it were two softgels
and a glass of water. тАЬDouble dose for the first day,тАЭ Hiam said, тАЬthen one
tomorrow, one the next day. After that, one every ten days. ThereтАЩs a possibility of
fever the first forty-eight hours, nothing dangerous.тАЭ
Marghe squeezed the gels gently between finger and thumb and held them up to
the light: they were watery pink. The glass of water was the same temperature as her
hand. She swallowed both gels at once, then put the empty glass back in the slot.
Marghe heard Hiam sigh. тАЬYou think IтАЩd back out at the last minute?тАЭ
тАЬYou never know. тАЭ
Marghe lay down on the bed farthest from the hoods, face still turned to the
screen. тАЬI want some privacy for a little while.тАЭ
тАЬIтАЩll have to keep the bio telemetry.тАЭ
Marghe nodded. тАЬBut no visual, no audio. Just for a while.тАЭ
тАЬFine.тАЭ The speaker clicked off.
The click, like that of the comm channel in her helmet, was deliberate, meant to
reassure the subject that she was not being monitored. Either could be simulated if
the observer deemed it desirable; Marghe chose to believe that this was not one of