"Gwyneth Jones - Saving Tiamaat" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jones Gwyneth)

The last event scheduled on that first day was a live transmission walkabout from the
Ki refugee camp, in the Customized Shelter Sector. In the plan-ning stages, some of
us had expressed doubts about this stunt. If anything went wrong itтАЩd sour the whole
negotiation. But the Ki and the An leaders were both keen, and the historic gesture
was something the public back on the homeworlds would understandтАФwhich in the
end had decided the question. The Diaspora Parliament had to struggle for
planetside attention, we couldnтАЩt pass up an opportunity.

At the gates of the CSS, deep in SperanzaтАЩs hollow heart, there was a delay.
The Customized Shelter Police wanted us in armored glass-tops, they felt that if we
needed a walkabout we could fake it... Pel├й chatted with Tiamaat, stooping from his
lean black height to catch her soft voice. Baal stared at the banners on two display
screens. The KiAn understood flags, we hadnтАЩt taught them that concept. Green and
gold quarters for the Ki, a center section crosshatched with the emblems of all the
nations. Purple tracery on vivid bronze for the An.

Poor kid, I thought, itтАЩs not a magic gateway to your lost home. DonтАЩt get
your hopes up. ThatтАЩs the door to a cage in a conservation zoo.

He noticed my attention, and showed his white teeth. тАЬAre there other peoples
living in exile on this floor?тАЭ

I nodded. тАЬYes. But mostly the people sheltered here are old spacers who
canтАЩt return to full gravity. Or failed colonist communities, likewise: people whoтАЩve
tried to settle on empty moons and planets and been defeated by the conditions.
There are no other populated-planet exiles. It hasnтАЩt been, er, necessary.тАЭ

тАЬWe are a first for you.тАЭ
 I wondered if that was ironic; if he was capable of irony.

A compromise was reached. We entered on foot, with the glass-tops and
CSP closed cars trailing behind. The Ki domain wasnтАЩt bad, for a displaced-persons
camp wrapped in the bleak embrace of a giant space station. Be-tween the
living-space capsule towers the refugees could glimpse their own shade of sky; and a
facsimile of their primary sun, with its partner, the blue-rayed daystar. They had
sanitation, hygiene, regular meals; leisure facili-ties, even employment. We stopped at
an adult retraining center; we briefly inspected a hydroponic farm. We visited a
kindergarten, where the teaching staff told us (and the flying cams!) how all the
nations of the Ki were gath-ered here in harmony, learning to be good Diaspora
citizens.

The children stared at Baal and Tiamaat. TheyтАЩd probably been born in the
camp, and never seen An in the flesh before. Baal fidgeted, seeming in-dignant under
their scrutiny. Tiamaat stared back with equal curiosity. I saw her reach a tentative
hand through the shielding, as if to touch a Ki child: but she thought better of it.

After the classroom tour, there was a reception, with speeches, dance, and
choral singing. Ki community leaders and the An couple didnтАЩt literally тАЬshake
handsтАЭ; but the gesture was accomplished. Here the live trans, ended, and most of