"Bc30" - читать интересную книгу автора (Niven Larry & Pournelle)

Her throat tightened.
"But there's another thing that you need to hear," he said, and his voice was surprisingly gentle. "I'm still your father, and I love you."
"Really?" she hated the sound of her own voice, the little-girl quality, the needing-Daddy's-approval quality. There was something there that she hadn't heard in her own voice for years, and she wasn't certain if she hadn't missed it.
"Really," he said. "I'll visit you here on the mainland. Both of your mothers will come over. But you're no longer welcome at the Bluff. Not now. Perhaps later, after we see what you do with
your responsibilities here. Love you get just because you're my daughter. Trust has to be earned."
She reached up and kissed his cheek. Started to speak, and he said, "Shhh."
She nodded, and looked.
"Is everything all right here?" he asked "Is there anything wrong?"
"What you see is what you get around here, Dad," she said.
He nodded again, and she wondered what it was that he had almost said, almost commented upon.
"Some of the First will never accept you," he said. "Will never be able to accept that you have a right to live the lives you want. To accept you as equal partners in this entire venture."
"What are they saying?" she asked.
"They suggest that you need to create your own society because you can't get along. That you have an adolescent need to break free, regardless of consequences. It's not just the First who say it, you know. There are plenty at Surf's Up--what's left of Surf's Up--who' II say it too."
A pterodon flew past, close enough that a well-thrown rock would have clipped a wing. Cadmann watched it for a long time.
"The nest," Jessica said.
He nodded.
"But that was long ago."
A smile.
"Dad, I'd say the same thing old Hendrick did. I'd tell a child, 'Don't touch the eggs. We don't know what the pterodons will do, but you won't like it.' "
He nodded again and looked away from the pterodon to stare down across the dry rock areas to where the river lay beyond grendel range. It wound off out of sight, an old river running through a long-silted valley, a snakelike, misty ribbon.
"The wells are over there," Jessica said. "No connection with running water."
He nodded. "You've chosen a good site. I'd say Shangri-La is safe. Unless--"
"Yes?"
He shook his head. "In the military we called it 'taking counsel from your fears.' You can get so concerned about what might happen that you can't do anything."
"What's bothering you?"
"Suppose a grendel could control itself. Not go on speed until it got up here. I think one could make it."
"They don't, though," Jessica said. "They didn't back at the Grendel Scout camp, and that was a much better place for one to do that."
"I expect you're right."
"But we thought of that too," she said. "We have motion and IR detectors out there." She took a deep breath. "You said--we did it the wrong way, but it was the right thing. Did you mean that?"
He laughed. "I think that it's too damned easy to forget why we came. Lots of reasons, but all of us had a dream. We believed we could make a future."
"Dad--"
"Yeah, I know. You do too. And the ones we left behind thought we were crazy, just like some think that about you. Jess, what's done is done. You're here, you've got a dream. You have to follow it, just as we did."
"I don't think I ever heard you talk this way before."
"Sure you did, you just weren't ready to listen yet." He looked out at the distant, mist-shrouded peaks, and stretched elaborately.
"Want to climb them?"
"Reading my mind without permission again? We left a lot behind, you know. Not like you, here. We really left. We'd never go home, and there wasn't much chance anyone we'd ever known would join us."
"And no one has--"
"And no one has," Cadmann said. "And we wish we knew why, but we don't. Jess, some of the good-byes we had to say were pretty bitter, you know. But they were good-byes. Once Geographic boosted out, we were all there was and all there would be. We had to trust each other. Really trust, with our lives, later with our families. That trust was broken, once--"
"I know. Zack thought you might have killed your friend--"
"Not just Zack. Everyone." He paused to stare into the distance, and she knew that he was once again strapped to a table, drugged and helpless as the grendel toyed with him. It had happened many times before, but now Jessica felt as if he was someone she didn't know at all. He was angry, hurt, disappointed . . . and yet somehow, under and aside of all of that, there was still profound hope, and a level of trust that she wasn't certain she deserved. It hurt to look at him, and she opted to change the subject. "Are you ever sorry that you came?"
He shook his head slowly. "Not me. There weren't any wars. I have no political savvy. I wasn't going anywhere in the UN military bureaucracy."
"And what about your marriage?" she asked carefully.
Her father looked at her, smiled sadly, and lowered his eyes. "Sienna made her choice," he said. "I was the first to cheat. I was married to my job. It took me everywhere. I was never faithful to her. She knew it. I knew it. I thought that somehow . . . somehow we'd survive."
"Did you love her?"
"Very much."
"As much as you love Mom?"
For a moment she wasn't certain that he would answer; then he said, "Yes."
"As much as you love Sylvia?"
He looked at her sharply, and she didn't look away. He smiled, and the smile wavered and was gone. "No," he said. She nodded. He put his arm around her. "And not as much as I love you, either."
She leaned her head against him. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Did I do wrong. Daddy?" Knowing that for her, the Stronghold was now on another planet.