"Lee Killough - Symphony for a Lost Traveler" - читать интересную книгу автора (Killough Lee)

Cimela accepted the cup he handed her and folded into a freeform chair. Suddenly, from somewhere,
music flooded the dome. She instantly recognized her Requiem For a Vanishing World, even without
the holo track. It flowed around her, stately bass notes representing whales booming along under the high
music of birds and the sinuous rhythms of predators, all intermixed with the sounds of the animals' own
voices: twittering, whale songs, howls, snarls.
Ashendene's moondust eyes continued to search her. "I never would have thought one could make
music using DNA as the score. Four notes sound so limiting."
She quirked a brow. "Nature manages well enough with them." She expected some reply, but he only
continued to stare at her. The scrutiny brought a rush of irritation. "Am I not what you expected?"
The moondust eyes flickered. "Oh, yes... black and all."
She started. Could the man read minds?
"I researched you, of course. Cimela Bediako, thirty-one years old, single, born in Ghana, bioengineer
father, music training in Sidney, lead singer and song writer for the Neo-Renaissance band the Rococo
Roos until you switched to symphonic music and presented World Primeval at the San Francisco Opera
House five years ago. If I'm staring, it's in admiration of one not only supremely talented and beautiful, but
a veritable Pied Piper as well."
Cimela blinked. "Pied Piper?"
Whale songs cried in counterpoint to the howl of wolves. Ashendene said, "World Primeval
generated a renewed interest in dinosaurs, I understand, and your wildlife symphonies have inspired a
growing conservation movement."
"I hope so!" She glanced up at the luminous sapphire above them, so unflawed at this distance. "We're
spreading out across the galaxy, but we're not leaving anything to come home to."
"Not quite across the galaxy. We haven't left the solar system yet."
Cimela shrugged. "Well, there's no practical star drive. Star ships would also take metals away, and
we don't even know there's anywhere to go."
The moondust eyes flicked over her. "Those are just the excuses we've concocted for abandoning the
stars... all invalid. We do have an efficient drive and there's not only somewhere to go, but someone to
meet."
Her breath stuck in her chest. "Someone..."
Ashendene leaned toward her. "Three years ago a miner I franchised found a derelict ship in the
asteroids. It's three thousand years old."
Her throat went dry. "We've been in the asteroids for only a century."
"Yes." He sat back. "My scientists have taken the ship apart and learned the principles behind the
drive. I want to put that drive in human ships now. That's why I asked you here. I plan to announce my
plans at a dinner for potential investors and I want music to celebrate the occasion. In addition to keeping
all rights to the music and being my guest while you work, you will, of course, receive monetary
remuneration."
He named a figure that any other time would have left Cimela dazzled, but now she could feel only the
bitter stab of disappointment. Background music! This was his idea of a unique musical work? She
stood. "No, thank you. I don't do commercials or waiting room music."
The moondust eyes went chill as the crater outside. "Perhaps you would be polite enough to hear me
out. The credit I spent bringing you here entitles me to at least that much of your time."
She sat down again, stiffly, on the edge of the chair.
Ashendene frowned. "I want very special music, a long piece to be performed after dinner by an
orchestra, something arranged as only you can do it, on DNA. That ship wasn't empty, Ms. Bediako."
Searing hot and cold shot through Cimela like an electric charge. Every hair on her body raised. "You
found... people?" she whispered.
"What remained of them. Now are you interested?"
His sarcasm went unnoticed over the crescendo of her heart. People. Aliens! Life different from any
that had ever walked this world! How were they built? Did all life share the same nucleotides, or would