"Ken Macleod - Fall Revolution 3 - The Cassini Division" - читать интересную книгу автора (MacLeod Ken)

depending on how fast the outbreakтАЩs spreading, thereтАЩs nobody else around for tens of kilometres.
You know, just about every one IтАЩve done, IтАЩve picked up a species that wasnтАЩt in the bank. Genus,
sometimes. Not known to science, as they say. Ran out of girlfriends to name them after, had to
start on my actual relatives. And then you come out, and you sit around with the goggles and
watch the zap. I mean, I like to see the flash, itтАЩs the next best thing to watching a nuke go off.тАЭ
The ecologist stopped and took another deep hit on the hookah. I waved away his offer of a
toke. He sighed.
тАЬThe times when thereтАЩs nobody around but you ... You just gotta love that wilderness
experience.тАЭ
I had reached halfway across to the centre of the room. I wanted to offer the stoned scientist a
shot of vodka, but the monkey had, in a moment of abstraction, devoured my last spare glass. The
man didnтАЩt mind. He assured me heтАЩd remember my name, and that some beetle or bug or
bacterium would, one day, be named in my honour. I realised that I couldnтАЩt remember his name.
Or perhaps he hadnтАЩt told me, or perhaps ... a certain amount of passive smoking was going on
around here. I thanked him, and moved on.
тАЬAnd donтАЩt do things like that,тАЭ I murmured. тАЬItтАЩs conspicuous.тАЭ A cold paw teased my ear, and
a faint, buzzing voice said: тАЬWeтАЩre low on silicates.тАЭ
I scratched the little pseudo-beast in response, and hoped no one had noticed my lips move. I
felt a sudden pang of hunger and a need for a head-clearing dose of coffee, and stopped at the
nearest buffet table. A woman wearing a plain, stained white apron over a gorgeous green sari
ladled me a hot plate of limpets in tomato sauce. (All real, if it matters. I guess it must: my mouth
waters at the memory, even now.) I decided on a glass of white wine. There were empty chairs
around, so I sat. The woman sat, too, at the other side of the table, and chatted with me as I ate.
тАЬIтАЩve just spoken to our special guests,тАЭ she said. She had an unusual accent. тАЬSuch interesting
people. An artificial woman, and a man from the stars! And back from the dead, in a sense.тАЭ She
looked at me sharply. тАЬPerhaps youтАЩll have met them before, being from space yourself?тАЭ
I smiled at her. тАЬHow come everyone knows IтАЩm from space?тАЭ тАЬYour dress, neighbour,тАЭ she
said. тАЬGold is a space thing, isnтАЩt it? It isnтАЩt one of our colours.тАЭ тАЬOf course,тАЭ I said. For a
moment IтАЩd thought sheтАЩd guessed it was a spacesuit. After sheтАЩd spoken, after IтАЩd had a minute to
observe how she moved, the subtle way her face cast its expressions, it was obvious that she was
well into her second century. There would be no fooling her. She looked right back at me, her
eyes shining like the pins in her piled-up black hair.
тАЬGold is such a useful metal,тАЭ she said. тАЬYou know, Lenin thought weтАЩd use it for urinals ...тАЭ
I laughed. тАЬNot his only mistake!тАЭ
Her reply was a degree or two cooler that her first remarks. тАЬHe didnтАЩt make many, and those he
did were the opposite of ... whatтАЩs usually held against him. He thought too highly of people, as
individuals and in the mass. Anyway,тАЭ she went on, complacently, тАЬsome of us still think highly of
him.тАЭ
IтАЩd placed her accent now. тАЬIn South Africa?тАЭ They were a notoriously conservative lot. Some
of them were virtually Communists.
тАЬWhy, yes, neighbour!тАЭ She smiled. тАЬAnd youтАЩre from ... now donтАЩt tell me ... not near-Earth;
not Lagrange ... and youтАЩre no Loony or Martian, thatтАЩs for sure.тАЭ She frowned, watching as I lifted
my glass, looking past me at, perhaps, her memory of how IтАЩd walked up to the table. Weighing
and measuring my reflexes. тАЬYes!тАЭ She clapped her hands. тАЬYouтАЩre a Callistan girl, arenтАЩt you?
And that means.. .тАЭ
Her eyes widened a fraction, her brows rose.
тАЬYes,тАЭ I said quietly. тАЬThe Cassini Division. And yes, IтАЩve seen your guests before.тАЭ I winked,
ever so slightly, and made a tiny downward movement with my fingers as I reached across the table
for a piece of bread. Not one in a hundred would have as much as noticed the gesture. She
understood it, and smiled, and talked about other things.