"Andrew J. Offutt - Spaceways 14 - Assignment Hellhole" - читать интересную книгу автора (Offutt Andrew J)

have his own notions on the subject. Alanni wasn't sure she could live with
anyone's notions, now. Of course with the T-SP she had hardly been sole ruler
of her time. Far from it. She had also been doing fascinating work, though,
that gave her a sense of purpose. She wasn't ruler of her own time on the
farm, either. Still, weather and grubs and jammed sluicegates (not often,
since Jay was a first-class maintenance tech) weren't the same as another
person. She hadn't realized until now just how great the difference would
be. Maybe the not-so-still small voice had a point. She should have realized
it. Why hadn't she? 7 Because Tilno is a change, and you're getting bored with
retirement to the farm. Bored? Bored-and don't play daughter of the soil with
me, little falcon! By degrees the voice in her mind took on a personality;
until it was the voice of Prefect Kilwar, dismissing her from T-SP for
practicing her own notions of justice too often. "You gave us a third of your
life, 'Lanni, and you gave yourself a fine name. You might have ended up in my
chair. I'd have been glad to let you sit down in it, too. That's not the way
it's going to be, though. You said you are actually going to take your pension
and bonus and buy a farm?" "Pos." "Well, if you can regrow your old roots in
Eagle's soil, that might be the best thing for you and for us. The Lord of
Light knows none of us wishes you harm. Yet if you've been away from the farm
too long, and find you can't go home again ..." The prefect seemed to lose
either the thread of his words or the nerve to finish them. "Pos. If I find
that I can't go home again-?" "The moment you know that, 'Lanni, get moving.
Don't stay married to the land until they plow you under it." He'd bent across
the desk then, and for the first time kissed her with more than professional
respect. Now it was three years-Eagle later and the moment was here. She
wasn't just bored. She felt stale, except when she and Tilno trysted, sliced,
soared. That would be ah even worse reason for marrying him than any of his
reasons for wanting to marry her. The Voice was silent now, and Alanni was
grateful. It had -brought her this far, then left her to make her own way. She
would have to, although she'd be cursed if she knew where it would
end! Meanwhile there's a crop to raise and a farm to run and Tilno to
entertain and generally no excuse for sittin' and feelin' sorry for myself.
She overrode the shower's program and turned it to full COLD. That should get
her mind off memories of soaring with Tilno! 2 Myths about cold showers die
hard. So does a good case of garden variety lust. By the time Alanni stepped
out of the shower, she wasn't sure whether her nipples were hard with the cold
or firm from thinking about Tilno. That was all the progress she'd made, aside
from the gooseflesh. The vibroset on the bed gave her an all-over massage and
rubbed oil into her skin at the same time. When it shut off, she sprayed the
soles of her feet deep violet, then lay back on the bed and waved her legs in
the air to dry the coloring. It occurred to her and she grinned: this pose and
action would be incredibly obscene from the right angle. A few twinges in her
thighs made her swear for the fiftieth time to go back to her combat
exercises. Farmwork kept the muscles in fair shape, but she liked the way she
had felt in the T-SP. She'd been able to take on some of the combat
instructors and roll them up in their own mats. Back then, she reflected, and
made a face. She rose to dress. A reelsilk wraparound from waist to ankles,
green with a decor of golden chinthes. Nothing under the wraparound and
nothing above it except a pair of wildman blooms-one on each breast just above
the nipple. The long trailing crimson petals pretended just enough modesty to