"Paul J. McAuley - Winning Peace" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mcauley Paul J)

тАЬWe arenтАЩt down yet,тАЭ Carver said. He was grinning like a fool. He be-lieved
that the worst was over.

The escape pod fell away from Texas IX, heading out toward its moon. It was
almost there when Mr. KanzaтАЩs scow overtook it.

****

Soon after it had formed, while its core had been still molten, something big had
smashed into Texas IXтАЩs solitary moon. It had excavated a wide, deep basin in one
side of the moon, and seismic waves traveling through the crust and core had
focused on the area antipodal to the impact, jostling and lift-ing the surface, breaking
crater rims and intercrater areas into a vast maze of hills and valleys, opening vents
that flooded crater floors with fresh lava. That was where the escape pod came
down, a thousand kilometers from the moonтАЩs only settlement, a hundred or so
hardscrabble ranches strung along the shore of a shallow, hypersaline sea.

The scow, shooting past at a relative velocity of twenty klicks per second, had
cooked the pod with a microwave burst, killing the podтАЩs AI and crip-pling most of
its control systems. Although the podтАЩs aerobraking surfaces gave Carver a little
leeway as it plowed through the moonтАЩs thin atmo-sphere, it smashed down hard
and skidded a long way across a lava plain; despite the web holding Carver to the
couch and the impact foam that flooded the podтАЩs interior, he was knocked
unconscious.

When he came around a few minutes later, the pod was canted at a steep
angle, the hatch was open, and Useless Beauty was gone. Carver was bruised over
most of his body and his nose was tender and bleeding, possibly broken, but he was
not badly hurt. He clawed his way through dissolving strands of impact foam and
clambered out of the hatch, discovered that the pod lay at the end of a long furrow,
its skin scarred, scraped, and discolored, and radiating an intense heat he could feel
through his pressure suit. Big patches of spindly desert vegetation burned briskly on
either side, lofting long reefs of smoke into the white sky.

Useless BeautyтАЩs tank stood on top of a ridge of overturned dirt, its black
cylinder balanced on four many-jointed legs, two more limbs raised as if in prayer
toward the sky. Carver was surprised and grateful to see it; heтАЩd thought that the
!Cha had taken the opportunity to make a run for it.

тАЬThis is only a brief respite,тАЭ Useless Beauty said, as Carver clambered up the
ridge. тАЬYour ownerтАЩs ship has swung far beyond this moon, but it is braking hard. It
will soon be back.тАЭ

тАЬThen we canтАЩt stay here,тАЭ Carver said. тАЬWe have to find a place to hide out
until someone from the settlement comes to investigate.тАЭ

The tankтАЩs two upper limbs swung down, aiming clusters of tools and sensors
straight at Carver, and Useless Beauty said, тАЬThis is the part of your plan that I do
not understand. This moon is owned by the Collective. You are a runaway slave.
Surely they will side with your master. And if they do not, they will claim you for