"Serrano Legacy - 03 - Winning Colors" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moon Elizabeth)

"I didn't on that shit-shoveler. Just put the output into the intake with a tool that's been around since humans had domestic animals."
"This is different." Sirkin prodded Brun with her toe. "Captain Serrano wants her crew to be cross-trained and above-average in skills."
"I know, I know." Brun punched up the background reference again. "It's just that electricity has never made sense to me. I keep wanting to knowwhy it does what it does, and all my instructors insisted I should memorize it and not worry about the theory." She entered the values she needed for the problem set. "And these names! How far back in the dark ages was it when they named these things? Volt, ohm, ampere: might as well be biff, baff, boff, for all the sense it makes."
Sirkin opened her mouth to lecture Brun, then saw that the screen had lit with the colored flashes meant to cheer on the successful student. "You got them all correct," she said.
"Of course." Brun didn't look up; she was entering her solutions to the next series of problems. "I'm not stupid; I just don't like this stuff."
Sirkin watched the angle of jaw, the cheekbone, the droop of eyelid as Brun looked down at the reference. She had heard Amalie complain so often about her classwork, but Amalie had had real trouble with it. She had not imagined that someone who could race through the material would still dislike it, and say so.
"You're good at it," she said, feeling her way. "So why don't you like it?"
Brun looked up as if startled, and gave Sirkin a sober look that quickly turned to a mischievous grin. "I'm good at lots of things I don't like," she said. "I was bred to be good at things; that's part of being a Registered Embryo."
"But how do you know what to do? What speciality to pursue?" Sirkin remembered clearly the aptitude tests she'd had, year after year, that had aimed her at her present career with more and more precision.
Brun turned completely around, and set down her stylus. "I never thought about it," she said frankly. "No one expects us to specialize, unless we have an overwhelming talent." That seemed incredible to Sirkin, and her expression must have shown that, for Brun wrinkled her own nose and went on. "There's general stuff we all have to know: economics, and management, and whatever is done by our family interests. You know."
"No." Sirkin didn't know, and she had a vague feeling of irritation. She had never wondered much about the children of the very rich, how they were educated, what they did. But this sounded too flabby, too shapeless, to be worth anything. "I don't see how you can expect to learn anything useful if you study only generalities."
"We don't." Brun, she saw, had picked up that irritation, and chose not to reflect it. "We have a lot of specifics, tooЧthings we'll needЧ"
"Which fork," Sirkin interrupted. Brun waved that away.
"Trivial. Children learn that by the time they start school, just from eating at tables with a range of flatware. No, there's a lot of background information, on our own families and the other Chairholders. Some of it we pick up, but a lot has to be learnt, formally. To vote my shares intelligently, for instance, I have to know that certain families will not invest in any phase of pork production on religious grounds."
"Shares of what?" Sirkin asked, forgetting her pique in genuine interest.
"Family companies. You know, the things our family invests in, products and processesа.а.а." Sirkin shook her head. "Do you know how investment works?"
"Notа.а.а. exactly." Not at all, really. She had started her own savings account in the Navigators' Guild; she knew vaguely that they "invested" in something to keep that private bank going, but she had no idea how or what.
The process, when Brun finally got it across to her, she found appalling. She had thought that moneyЧsome real substanceЧsat in the Navigators' Guild vaults. She had thought that some real substance lay behind the ubiquitous credit cubes and credit slips which she used in everyday transactions.
"Not anymore," Brun said cheerfully. "It's all a tissue of lies, really, but it works, and that's all that matters." That didn't sound right, but Sirkin was past asking questions. "It's whether people believe the credit cubes are any good that matters, and they define 'good' by the exchange rate."
"I'm lost," Sirkin said.
"No, you're not." Brun squirmed into the nest of pillows at one end of the bunk and began waving those long arms. "LookЧwhat's the smallest unit of money in the Familias?"
"A fee." At least she knew that much. In rural districts, on more backward planets, you could still find vending machines that took fees, little disks of metal with designs stamped into them.
"And what can you buy with a fee?"
"It depends," Sirkin said. Not much anywhere, she knew that, but something that cost ten fees in one town might cost fifteen somewhere else. She said that; she did not add that already she was beginning to believe in the worth of Brun's education, however unusual.
"Exactly. So a fee is worth what someone will give you for it. The same with all our monetary units."
"But that's not the same as saying they're no good if someone says so.а.а.а."
"Brig, think a moment. Suppose we're on a station somewhere: I run a restaurant, and you want a meal. You hand me your credit cubeа.а.а. why would I take that in exchange? I have to believe that with the credits I take off your cube, I can buy things I want or needЧlike the food I'm going to cook to make your meal."
"But of course you canЧ"
"As long as we all agree on the same lies, yes. But if we don'tЧif I suspect you'll eat the food, but the grocer won't accept credit for the raw foodsЧ"
"What else could they want?" It made no sense; everyone used credit cubes, and only a stupid person would refuse them.
"Something of hard valueа.а.а. you know, barter. Surely you had friends you traded around with? You know, you liked her scarf and she liked an earring you had, and you just traded."
"Well, of course, but that's not like buying itЧ"
"It is, really. LookЧyou might have seen her scarf, and said 'What'll you take for that?' and it wasn't a close friend, so she wouldn't give it to you, and you'd pay a few fees. And then a week later, she spotted your earring, and bought it from you. Only difference is, if you have the things there, you can just trade.а.а.а."
"Seems more honest, that way," Sirkin said.
"As long as you know how to judge the value of everythingЧbut it wouldn't work overall. I mean, an employer can't keep a warehouse full of everything every employee might like, and let you rummage for a day's worth of goods."
"I see that," Sirkin said. "But I still think money has to be real somehow. Solid. Stored someplace. They talk in the news about depositories as if they had something in them."
"They do, but it's mostly to keep counterfeiters from running down the valueЧ" Brun stopped, aware that she was only confusing things. "Sorry. LookЧthis is sort of my field. For all of the Chairholders, I mean. I've explained it badly; I should have started slower."
"I'm not stupid." Sirkin turned away.
"No, and that's not what I meant." Brun waited, but Sirkin said nothing. She sighed, and went on. "Look, if you're determined to be angry, I can't stop you. Lots of people hate the rich. That's understandable. We go bouncing around having fun, and even when we are working it doesn't look like what you do."
"That's not it," Sirkin said, still looking away.
"Are you sure? If not, what is it?"
"It'sЧnot that you have more money. That you can buy things." Sirkin was looking down at her hands now, her fingers moving as if on a control board. "It's that you seem to live in a different universe. Larger. You're so smart, in everything. You've had all this education, in everything. Maybe I know more about navigation, and ten days ago I knew more about this electronic systemа.а.а. but you learn sofast . I always thought I was smartЧIwas smart; I had perfect scores. And you come waltzing in and learn it without trying, it seems like." Her head dropped lower. "I feel likeа.а.а. like you're going to read me, learn me, as fast as you have everything else, and then I'll be just a bit of experience that enriches your life." Sirkin tried to copy Brun's accent. "а'Oh, yes, I had a woman lover once; she was a nice girl but rather limited.' That's what's bothering me. I don't want to be your adventure with gender orientation."
"Oh."
"Which is what Meharry says you're doing," Sirkin said, getting it all out in a rush. "She says you're an R.E., and R.E.s are all made hetero, because your families want you to marryЧ"
"Meharry was supposed to be playing a role," Brun said savagely, slamming her fist into one of the pillows. She didn't want to be talking about this now, and especially not after Meharry had taken the high ground. "And besides she's wrong."
"About what, Registered Embryos in general, or you in particular?"
Brun waited a long moment, gathering her thoughts. "When I was in that cave, I realized that I didn't want to be anyone's designated blonde. So I understand that you don't want to be my fling with sexual experimentation, a sort of bauble on the necklace of my life story. But that's not how I've seen it, Sirkin. I admired you, and the way Captain Serrano talked about youа.а.а. if it hadn't been for you, they wouldn't have come after us in time. Then we met, andа.а.а. and I liked it."
"But do you love men or women?"
Brun stirred uneasily. "I don't know. I like bothЧto have as friends, I mean. I never really thought about it, because it didn't matter a lot. Until now."
"How can you not think about it!" More accusation than question. "You have to think about it."