"Kim Stanley Robinson - Sixty Days and Counting" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robinson Kim Stanley)

blazing in a low tarnished sun that was smeared out in long bars of translucid
cloudтАФthe wind frigid, and flying through him as if the gusts were stabs of feeling
for herтАФfor the way she was capable, the way she liked it out here. He had thought
she would be like this, but they had spent so little time together he could not be sure.
But now he was seeing it. His Caroline, real in the sunlight and the wind. A gust of
wind was a surge of feeling.
She brought the iceboat around again, east to west, and continued the smooth curve
west, as they were now shooting into the channel that began the other arm of the
lakeтАЩs Y. Here the north wind was somewhat blocked by the peninsula separating the
two arms of the lake, and the iceboat slid along with less speed and noise. Then
another curve, and they were headed into the wind again, on the short arm of the Y,
running up to a little island she called Rum Island, which turned out to be just a
round bump of snow and trees in the middle of a narrow part of the lake.
As they were about to pass Rum Island, something beeped in CarolineтАЩs jacket
pocket. тАЬShit!тАЭ she said, and snatched out a small device, like a handheld GPS or a
cell phone. She steered with a knee while she held it up to her face to see it in the
sunlight. She cursed again. тАЬSomeoneтАЩs at camp.тАЭ
She swerved, keeping Rum Island between the boat and MaryтАЩs place. As they
approached the island she turned into the wind and let loose the sail, so that they
skidded into a tiny cove and onto a gravel beach no bigger than the iceboat itself.
They stepped over the side onto icy gravel, and tied the boat to a tree, then made
their way to the islandтАЩs other side. The trees on the island hooted and creaked like
the Sierras in a storm, a million pine needles whooshing their great chorale. It was
strange to see the lake surface perfectly still and white under the slaps of such a hard
blow.
Across that white expanse, the green house and its little white boathouse were the
size of postage stamps. Caroline had binoculars in the boat, however, and through
them the houseтАЩs lake side was quite distinct; and through its big windows there was
movement.
тАЬSomeone inside.тАЭ
тАЬYes.тАЭ
They crouched behind a big schist erratic. Caroline took the binoculars back from
him and balanced them on the rock, then bent over and looked through them for a
long time. тАЬIt looks like Andy and George,тАЭ she said in a low voice, as if they might
overhear. тАЬUh ohтАФget down,тАЭ and she pulled him down behind the boulder.
тАЬThereтАЩs a couple more up by the house, with some kind of scope. Can those IR
glasses you use for the animals see heat this far away?тАЭ
тАЬYes,тАЭ Frank said. He had often used IR when tracking the ferals in Rock Creek. He
took the binoculars back from her and looked around the side of the boulder near
the ground, with only one lens exposed.
There they wereтАФlooking out toward the islandтАФthen hustling down the garden
path and onto the ice itself, their long dark overcoats flapping in the wind. тАЬJesus,тАЭ
he said, тАЬtheyтАЩre coming over here to check! They must have seen our heat.тАЭ
тАЬDamn it,тАЭ she said. тАЬLetтАЩs go, then.тАЭ
They ran back over the little island to the beach. A hard kick from Caroline to the
hull of the iceboat and it was off the gravel and ready to sail. Push it around, get in
and take off, waiting helplessly for the craft to gain speed, which it did with an icy
scratching that grew louder as they slid out from the islandтАЩs wind shadow and
skidded south.
тАЬYou saw four of them?тАЭ Frank asked.