"Procyon's Promise" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCollum Michael)gaming decks. Later, she had enlisted as a centurion in a Roman Legion on the
Sensie-Gamer deck and slogged for two days through the damp chill of a simulated Gaul. Her first battle convinced her that the difference between ancient warfare and a modern butcher shop is mostly a matter of attitude, and she began to cast around for new diversions. She turned to the most traditional sport of all, availing herself of the large pool of male companionship - both professional and tourist - thatThe Roost had to offer. The previous evening she had attended the nightly Bacchanal on Beta Deck. That had been a mistake She would become involved with a handsome young man whose only goal was to please her. Yet, in spite of the soft lights, the rich smell of incense, and the warm glow of two drinks within her; she found herself losing interest with each passing moment. She had ended up watching simulated clouds scud across a simulated sky. Afterwards, she made her excuses and left early. There was no doubt about it. Lotus eating was definitely beginning to pall. Playing with a fruit bowl, Chryse now sat alone in a breakfast nook pondering the curious emotional state into which she had fallen. Her reflection stared dully back at her from the polished depths of the table. The image was that of a woman in her early thirties, blonde, with shoulder length hair that framed a wide, honest face. The eyes were set wide apart above high cheekbones, a nose that seemed a trifle small, and a mouth just then twisted into a slight scowl. The eyes were brown in the simulated mahogany of the table, but green in actuality. УTenth-stellar for your thoughts.Ф Chryse looked up to find Roland Scott standing over her. Roland had been a she had taken him as a lover that same night. He had been good for her psyche and they had spent three glorious days together before she suffered the minor disappointment of discovering that he was aRoost employee. УHello, Roland.Ф УWhy so glum?Ф he asked. УJust a little tired, I guess.Ф УAnything I can do to help?Ф She shook her head. УIТm afraid thereТs no cure for what ails me. You may have a seat if you like, though.Ф He quickly slid into the opposite side of the booth. УMaybe it would help to talk about it.Ф She smiled wanly at him, recognizing his automatic response to a professional challenge. Still, Roland really cared. He was paid to care. Of course, that was part of the problem. УItТs this place,Ф she said, glumly. УWhat about it?Ф УIt depresses me.Ф His face acquired a look of surprise. УThe Big Boss isnТt going to like hearing that. He has put billions intoThe Roost . No one is supposed to be unhappy here, least of all Chryse Lawrence Haller.Ф УYou werenТt listening. I didnТt say I was unhappy. I said I was depressed. Different emotion entirely.Ф УIf you say so.Ф УLook around you, Roland. What do you see?Ф |
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