"Robert Reed - The Caldera of Good Fortune" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reed Robert)

simply vanish....тАЭ

тАЬNothing is real,тАЭ Doom whispered.

тАЬTo the Luckies, everything and everyone are fictions. And existence
is simply the oldest, finest illusion.тАЭ

CrockettтАЩs new friend whimpered. That was the best description for
the mournful little sound. Then the big eyes closed, the lids rising from
below, and he said, тАЬWell, perhaps we should hope these little creatures
are correct.тАЭ

****

3

Regardless of origins and no matter the vagaries of physiologies, trees
adapted to severe cold and darkness often shared physical traits. Large,
almost weightless leaves, mirrored and spread wide in the daylight,
gathering the glow of the weak illusionary sun, bouncing it into a central bud
or vein that was always black or purplishтАФa spherical receptor encased
within an organic crystal, transparent but heavily insulated, clinging to every
trace of useable heat. What was living inside any tree was tiny. Think of a
manтАЩs dead body with a busy heart still beating in the chest; those were the
normal proportions. Trees growing in the hamlet had the richest, easiest
environment. Warmth leaked from the homes, and the streetlamps were
blessings. But it took even the most vigorous Gany-mede pine a hundred
years for its bulb to expand as much as a good heart filling with hot, living
blood.

Perhaps there were other ways to build cold trees. But Crockett had
no experience with them. Since coming to the hamlet as a young boy, he
had never left. He couldnтАЩt afford to go anywhere, since that meant losing
his cherished resident status. But he was free to travel by virtual routes,
which he did on occasionтАФwitnessing habitats inside the Great Ship and
across the galaxy. In general, Crockett preferred hot bright places where
trees grew tall as hills and left behind the beautiful wood that he would buy
with a tiny portion of his savings, using it to add accents and warmth to the
walls of his own tiny house.

Beneath the cable car, the meager local forest was vanishing.

And a moment later, it was gone.

Half a dozen cable cars were sliding past, and with a rough
calculation, Crockett decided that only one or two more remained above.
The security officers hadnтАЩt given up. Smiling, he let himself imagine the
girls waiting for him. He pictured them standing side by side, their pretty
faces obscured by the layers of heated clothing, but their breath coming
quickly with anticipation, emerging into the gloom and mixing and rising into