"Reed, Robert - APlaceWithShade" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reed Robert)

ROBERT REED

A PLACE WITH SHADE

The old man was corpulent like a seal, muscle clothed in fat to guarantee
warmth, his skin smooth and his general proportions -- stocky limbs and a broad
chest -- implying a natural, almost unconscious power. He wore little despite
the damp chill. The brown eyes seemed capable and shrewd. And humorless. We were
standing on a graveled beach, staring at his tiny sea; and after a long silence,
he informed me, "I don't approve of what you do, Mr. Locum. It's pretentious and
wasteful, this business of building cruel places. You're not an artist, and I
think it's healthy for both of us to know my objections to your presence here."

I showed a grin, then said, "Fine. I'll leave." I had spent three months inside
cramped quarters, but I told him, "Your shuttle can take me back to the
freighter. I'll ride out with the iron."

"You misunderstand, Mr. Locum." His ham e was Provo Lei, the wealthiest person
fora light-month in any direction. "I have these objections, but you aren't here
for me. You're a gift to my daughter. She and I have finally agreed that she
needs a tutor, and you seem qualified. Shall we dispense with pretenses? You are
a toy. This isn't what you would call a lush commission, and you'd prefer to be
near a civilized world, building some vicious forest for society people who want
prestige and novelty. Yet you need my money, don't you? You're neither a tutor
nor a toy, but your debts outweigh your current value as an artist. Or am I
wrong?"

I attempted another grin, then shrugged. "I can work on a larger scale here."
I'm not someone who hesitates or feels insecure, but I did both just then. "I've
had other offers --"

"None of substance," Provo interrupted.

I straightened my back, looking over him. We were in the middle of his house --
a sealed hyperfiber tent covering ten thousand hectares of tundra and ice water
-- and beyond the tent walls was an entire world, earth-size but less massive.
Not counting robots, the world's population was two. Counting me, three. As we
stood there enjoying impolite conversation, an army of robots was beneath the
deep water-ice crust, gnawing at rock, harvesting metals to be sold at a profit
throughout the district.

"What do you think of my little home, Mr. Locum? Speaking as a professional
terraformer, of course."

I blinked, hesitating again.

"Please. Be honest."