"Joe Haldeman - The Pilot" - читать интересную книгу автора (Haldeman Joe)

THE PILOT
The set is out of adjustment: a green streak slashes diagonally through the viewing cube,
impales the smiling host.
She tries to adjust it by softly licking a molar, remembers, curses economically, turns a
knob until the streak disappears, another knob to sharpen the image. Host smiling goodbye
to someone. Feel of cold metal sticks to her thumb and finger until she rubs it away on her
thigh, disgusted, nose wrinkling. How many filthy traveling salesmen and conventioneers
and hotel maids have touched these knobs since they were last sterilized? Have they ever
been sterilized?
"Our next guest is a woman with a marvelously rare occupation." Occupation! He smiles
offcube and the picture scale diminishes to include her as well, not smiling, trying not to
fidget on the filthy leather chair. "She is a spaceship pilot"тАФI am a spaceshipтАФ"but no
ordinary rocket jock. She pilots a slowboat between the Earth and the outer solar systemтАФ
the asteroids, even as far as Saturn. Her name is Lydia Meinenger and she's a fellow New
Yorker." New Yorker. "Lydia, would you tell us something about slowboats: how theyтАФ"
"In the first place," she interrupts, "they aren't slow. They go much faster than anything
you use in the Earth-Moon system. The name is a hangover from the old robot tugs that
crawled along on Hohmann transfer orbits, to minimize fuel use. A Hohmann tug took six
years to get to Saturn; I can make it in thirteen months. Nine months, with a Jupiter flyby.
But I can't do that with passengers."
"Because of the radiation?"
"That's right." Warm like summer sunshine. тАЬThey can't wrap everyone up in lead, the
way I am."
"That's probably the most fascinating aspect of your job, Lydia. The way you're wired up
to the ship, you're actually part of it." I am the ship, you actual fool.
тАЬтАЩWired up' is a little extreme. They don't use surgical implants anymore; just induction
plates pasted over various organs. There are a few small wires associated with the somatic
feedback system"тАФO slow ecstasyтАФ"but they enter through natural body openings and you
hardly feel them once they're in place."
"This feedback thing, this is how you control the ship?"
"That's right. There's an initial calibration that, well, as long as I feel good"тАФGood!тАФ
"then every system in the ship is working properly. If any system varies from its expected
performance, I feel it as an illness or slight pain. The nature and intensity of the wrongness
tells me which system is involved and gives me an idea as to the severity of the malfunction.
For instance, a hydrogen ullage problem, where the fuel flow is momentarily uneven, I feel
as a hot spasm of"тАФscreen goes white, low chimeтАФ"tum."
Host smirking behind filthy hand. "Afraid the censor won't let that slip by, Lydia." They
live in shit so can't talk about it? Chuckles. "It doesn't seem very precise."
 "The important thing is sensitivity, not precision. Instantly knowing which system is
hurting. Then I call up the appropriate system parameters and compare them to the ideal
mission profile. I can usually fix the trouble with the help of the ship's diagnostic library. If
not, I call Company Control on the Moon."
"So your main job is troubleshooting."
"Yes." Like you troubleshoot your body? Filthy fool couldn't find your liver with both
hands. "I make decisions regarding the maintenance of the ship."
"It doesn't sound very exciting...."
"It is."
Looking at her expectantly: she doesn't continue. "You must have quite a technical
background." For a woman, say it fool.
"No. I majored in classical Latin and Greek. The technical part is easy. Any reasonably