"Michael McCollum - Gibraltar earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCollum Michael)

The drunk had paid for his mistake immediately. His carтАЩs right side impellers had been smashed, robbing
him of half his lift. The resulting asymmetry had turned his car over and sent it diving into the ground some
twenty kilometers east of the river. MarkтАЩs parents had been marginally luckier. With most of his active
flight controls smashed, Hugh Rykand had fought his car into a semblance of stability and headed for the
ground. HeтАЩd let down to land on a stretch of Old Interstate 10 only to discover a small hillock, invisible
in the dark, loom in the beams of his landing lights at the last second.

Moira stirred. тАЬWhatтАЩs the matter? You are shivering.тАЭ

тАЬSorry. The liquor must be giving me the twitches.тАЭ

тАЬOh, poor Markie! Your heart is beating a kilometer a minute,тАЭ she said as she burrowed her head into
his chest. тАЬIs there anything Moira can do for her Markie?тАЭ

тАЬNo,тАЭ he said more sharply than he intended. тАЬGo back to sleep.тАЭ

He had been a student at the time, studying to be a computer specialist, with a minor in astronomy. Life
had been good. As the son of rich parents, he had lacked for neither money nor clothes and had more
than his share of female companions.

тАЬAre you Mark James Rykand?тАЭ the taller of the two police officers that called at his apartment door
had asked.

тАЬWhat have I done, officer?тАЭ

тАЬNothing that we know of, Mr. Rykand. We are here about your parents. ThereтАЩs been an accident.тАЭ

The knife that had entered his heart had been ice cold. тАЬHow badly are they hurt?тАЭ
тАЬI am sorry, but theyтАЩre dead.тАЭ

The news had not really sunk in until Mark had gone to identify the bodies. He had managed to identify
his fatherтАЩs battered corpse without breaking down, but when he saw his mother lying naked on the cold
slab with no obvious injuries; it had been too much. The feeling of being alone had been overwhelming.
Despite his many friends, heтАЩd felt that only one person could remove the hollow feeling in the pit of his
stomach. That was his sister, Jani, and unfortunately, she was exploring some nameless star system out in
the deep black.

Over the next several weeks, he had wondered how he would break the news to her when her ship
finally returned. Like a trip to the dentist, the anticipation of the event had proven worse than its reality. In
fact, he had not had to tell Jani at all. The Stellar Survey took care of that as soon as her ship materialized
somewhere beyond the orbit of Jupiter. Jani had nearly three weeks to compose herself before her return
to Earth, and then she barely stayed a week. She had visited Mark just long enough to have a good, long
cry with him and to sign over her power-of-attorney, giving him carte blanche to manage their mutual
inheritance. After that, he had accompanied her to the spaceport, kissed her good-bye, and watched her
disappear back into the endless vacuum overhead. Her whirlwind visit had done nothing to alleviate the
gnawing feeling of loneliness.

Three years later, the feeling was still with him. Mark often awoke to find himself wrapped in
perspiration-soaked bed sheets, shivering, fists clenched around an invisible control column as he