"Bc13" - читать интересную книгу автора (Niven Larry & Pournelle)

"She was not alone. She was with Joe!"
"You're right. You're right." He wiped his hand over his face. And for the first time that she could remember, Jessica hadn't the slightest idea what was going on behind her brother's eyes. Was he blaming her? Himself? Imagining what he was going to say to Father? Was he thinking of the bones in the hold, all that remained of their baby sister?
She reached out to him, touched him gently on his shoulder, and was absurdly happy when he didn't brush her hand away.
Aaron came up behind her. "Jessica," he said, "I need to talk to you."
She was torn between Justin and Aaron for a moment. Then she smiled almost apologetically, and said, "I'll be right back."
Justin's gaze slid coldly from Jessica to Aaron and back again, and then he nodded, so shallowly that it was almost no motion at all. And then, in some way that she couldn't completely explain, Jessica knew what Justin was thinking.
And feeling.
She knew it, but couldn't quite make the thought rise up to consciousness.
That might have hurt a little too much.

The entire colony was on the beach as Robor floated into the bay. Cadmann drew his coat collar up around his jaw. The cold seemed more piercing somehow, as the mist rolling in off the ocean penetrated coat and shirt and skin. Around him, radios crackled. A dozen rifles were held in crossed arms.
Perhaps Death is aboard the Robor, he could almost hear them thinking. It was what he wondered. It was the fear that had lurked just beneath the surface of their loves and growths and actions, every day for twenty years. And now it had come home to roost.
The air was filled with the ocean's steady, rolling roar, the crackle of the radios, and no other sound at all. Then they heard the purr of skeeter engines. Out of the fog loomed Robor, like some great mythical beast bearing its dreadful, beloved cargo. Its gigantic red lips glistened in the mist. As soon as the lines dropped, colonists chased after them to tie them to the docking loops.
The mood was dark, probably the worse he had seen since . . .
Remember Ernst, Cadmann . . . ?
His memory didn't want to go over it again. And over it, and over it.
Someone yelled an instant before one of the docking lines slapped across his face, smashing his head back. His hands flew up to fend off the blow. His hands clasped the flagging rope as he pulled. His hands and shoulders ached. As Stevens and Carlos lent their weight to his line he reached up a trembling hand to feel his right cheek. His fingers came away bloody, and he said something ugly.
Robor touched down. The rampway opened.