"Alastair Reynolds - A Spy In Europa" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Alastair)

subjects who had undergone similar procedures in Gilgamesh's experimental

labs. They told him he would feel fragile, as if his head was no longer

adequately coupled to his body. The periodic flushes of cold around his

neck only served to increase that feeling.

"You can speak," Cholok said, looming over him in surgeon's whites. "But

the cardiovascular modifications - and the amount of reworking we've done

to your laryngeal area - will make your voice sound a little strange. Some

of the gilled are really only comfortable talking to their own kind."

He held a hand before his eyes, examining the translucent webbing which

now spanned his fingers. There was a dark patch in the pale tissue of his

palm: Cholok's embedded sample. The other hand held another.

"It worked, didn't it." His voice sounded squeaky. "I can breathe water."

"And air," Cholok said. "Though what you'll now find is that really

strenuous exercise only feels natural when you're submerged."

"Can I move?"

"Of course," she said. "Try standing up. You're stronger than you feel."

He did as she suggested, using the moment to assess his surroundings. A

neural monitor clamped his crown. He was naked, in a brightly-lit revival

room; one glass-walled side facing the exterior ocean. It was from here

that Cholok had first contacted Gilgamesh.

"This place is secure, isn't it."

"Secure?" she said, as if it was obscene. "Yes, I suppose so."

"Then tell me about the Denizens."
"What?"

"Demarchy code word. Cryptanalysis intercepted it recently - supposedly

something about an experiment in radical biomodification. I was reminded