"Linda Nagata - Hooks, Nets & Time" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nagata Linda)

Zayder punched a flow button on the respirator. He noted in satisfaction that the harsh rush of air made
Commarin jump. "You're a lucky man to have a job waiting for you. What'll you be doing? Making lethal
genetic weapons for the other side?"

"No. I'll be working on the genetics of endangered species in the Brazilian preserves."

Zayder froze. He'd tried to get work at a preserve in Brazil, one that supported a riparian environment
that ran all the way to the sea. Sharks were known to feed in the murky waters of a river's mouth, where
the occasional animal carcass would wash out from the forest. Such a lucky man.

A gray fin cut the water in the pen, just a few meters away. Zayder tended over a hundred sharks in this
pen. They rarely attacked each other, as he kept them satiated on the organic garbage the trawlers
brought in.

He watched the fin glide by. He'd learned to recognize each shark as an individual. This one he could
identify by the fin alone. "Tiburon," he whispered.
Silently, he laid the tank on the deck and picked up the harpoon.

Commarin must have noted the change in his gaze, because he turned. His eyes widened as the shark
doubled back. It glided even closer to the deck this time. As it slid by, its head rose half out of the water
and its ancient eyes seemed to fix on Commarin.

Zayder had seen this sort of behavior before. "That's Tiburon," he said. "The one that took off your finger
tips. Sharks pick their victim. Guess he figures you belong to him now."

"Are they so intelligent?" Commarin asked. He hurried to the edge of the deck, where he dropped to his
knees and leaned out over the water.

Zayder felt his eyes go wide. Tiburon was only a few meters off the deck. The great fish turned suddenly,
his tail churning the water as he raced back toward Commarin.

Zayder got there first. He grabbed Commarin by his shirt, yanked him to his feet and threw him back
towards the shed. The shark turned abruptly and descended back into the water without striking.

"You gotta death wish?" Zayder shouted.

Commarin didn't answer. His face reflected fear as he looked out across the ocean, where the low
rumble of a distant helicopter had suddenly become audible. Zayder darted to the ocean-edge of the
deck. He saw the machine, a speck on the horizon, skimming the waves as it bore straight for the station.
He turned to Commarin. "Looks like Ryan's found your trail."

Commarin nodded grimly.

"I could try to hide you. But it's useless. If they suspect you're here, they'll search the station."

"It's all right," Commarin said, his expression suddenly as empty as the shark's. "I won't make trouble for
you."

Zayder could remember the desire. It was not so long ago when he'd still allowed himself to dream of
the great marine preserves off Australia, off Africa. All he'd ever wanted was to know the ocean, to