"Geoffrey Landis - Ecopoiesis" - читать интересную книгу автора (Landis Geoffrey A)

"Toynbee!" Leah said. "They were dissolved more than a century ago. Bankrupt and
sold for scrap. Besides, lots of researchers have visited Mars."
Tally nodded, slowly. "A century ago, yes. I doubt anybody been here in the last
hundred years, though, except our poor friends. Seems hard to believe anyone
would still care. A nut, I'd say. Still, a nut might be what we're looking for."

"And the other possibilities?"
"Turns out that there are still some people," Tally said, "as think that
ecopoiesis is usurping the role of God. And some as think that ecopoiesis is, or
was, a crime against the ecosystem. And there's been talk that if Mars could be
triggered, then other planets, in other solar systems, could be. Some of these
have life of their own, incompatible with terrestrial life. So, some radicals,
they don't want Mars studied. They're scared that any studying of Mars is a step
to triggering planets in other solar systems. There are those as would like to
stop that. Stop it early, and stop it at any cost.
"And, finally, there are those as worry about Mars, worry that this ecopoiesis
might just be another LA waiting to happen." She shrugged. "Me, I rather like
old LA. Got that kind of raw charm you don't see much in other cities nowadays.
But I know that not everybody thinks like me."
"I see," said Leah. "And which of these would have set a bomb?"
Tally shrugged. "Any of them. Or all of them, working together."
"Working together? Logically, the Toynbees and the eco-radicals are enemies."
Tally smiled. "Logically, we're not precisely talking rational people here."
"So what do we have?"
"See, are we even sure it was a bomb?" Tally said. "Tinkerman, you find any
suspicious pieces of pyrotechnic?"
I shook my head. "Nothing yet. But I don't know much about bombs. I might have
missed something."
"Me neither," Tally said. "And I do know about bombs, I do. A bit."
#
Leah Hamakawa was completely opaque to me. I never had a clue what she was
thinking, what she felt or thought about me. Sometimes her gaze would wander
over me and stop, and she would look at me, not with a question, not with an
invitation, just a look, calm and direct. I wished I knew what she was
contemplating.
I wished I knew why I was so attracted to her.
The trip to Old LA had been a cusp in our relationship. On the trip we had just
been fellows, co-adventurers and nothing more. Afterwards, Leah accepted the
fact that I tagged along after her as just a facet of the environment, hardly
worth commenting on. We're not, actually, a team, although it must seem like it
to others. Leah was the hotshot scientist, and, well, every team needs a tech
and a pilot.
Eventually she had noticed.
"Look," Leah had said. "You're as skittery as a colt, you're stammering, I can't
get one full grammatical sentence out of you in a cartload, and you're so
nervous I'm sure you're going to break something. Do you want to sleep with me?
Is that it?"
Her gaze was direct. It was always direct.
I couldn't say anything. I had trouble closing my mouth,
"If you do," she said, "fine, do it, or don't do it, I don't care, just will you