"Vinge, Joan D. - Snow Queen Cycle 1 - Snow Queen (SLUC)" - читать интересную книгу автора (1981 - Joan D Vinge - The Snow Queen)

even a reasonable replica of the original person are not particularly
good under the most controlled conditions, let alone "

"Then the more implants you perform tonight, the better off we'll
both be. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," tasting self-disgust. "I suppose it is." He
rolled the sleeping woman carefully onto her back and reached into
his kit again.


Here on Tiamat, where there is more water than land, the sharp edge
between ocean and sky is blurred; the two merge into one. Water is
drawn up from the shining plate of the sea and showers down again in
petulant squalls. Clouds pass like emotion across the fiery red faces
of the Twins, and are shaken off, splintering into rainbows: dozens
of rainbows every day, until the people cease to be amazed by them.
Until no one stops to wonder, no one looks up.... "It's a shame,"
Moon said suddenly, pulling hard on the steering oar.

"What is?" Sparks ducked down as the flapping sail filled and the
boom swept across over his head. The outrigger canoe plunged like a
wing fish "It's a shame you aren't paying attention. What do you want
to do, sink us?"

Moon frowned, the moment's mood broken. "Oh, drown yourself."

"I'm half-drowned already; that's the trouble." He grimaced at the
water lapping the ankles of their waterproof kleeskin over boots and
picked up the bailer again. The last squall had drowned his good
nature, anyway, she thought, along with the sodden supply baskets. Or
maybe it was only fatigue. They had been at sea on this journey for
nearly a month, creeping from island to island along the Windward
chain. And for the last day they had been beyond the Windwards,
beyond the charts they knew, striking out across the expanse of open
ocean toward three islands that kept to themselves, a sanctuary of
the Sea Mother. Their boat was tiny for such far ranging, and they
had only the stars and a rough current-chart of crisscrossed sticks
to guide them. But they were children of the Sea as truly as they
were the children of their birth-mothers; and because they were on a
sacred quest, Moon knew that She would be kind.


Moon watched Spark's bobbing head catch fire as the pinwheeled binary
of Tiamat's double sun broke the clouds, to kindle flame in the red
of his hair and his sparse, newly starting beard; throw the
soft-edged shadow of his slim, muscular body down into the bottom of
the boat. She sighed, unable to keep hold of her irritation when she
looked at him, and reached out tenderly to ringer a red, shining
braid.