"James Rollins - Subterranean" - читать интересную книгу автора (Romeyn Henry)

With a hand held up, she swallowed her mouthful. "Since I only have the one day, I would rather start
earlier. Say around six o'clock."

Blakely smiled. "I'll let Dr. Symski know."

Ben cleared his throat and wiped a dribble of cheese from his chin. "I'd like to go and check them out
too."

"Fine with me," Blakely said. "Is that all right with you, Professor Carter?"

Ashley pictured Ben crawling beside her into a cramped cave, his body pressing against hers. "As long
as he doesn't get in the way."

He raised his hands in feigned innocence. "Who, me?"

Blakely addressed the rest of the group. "Any others?"

Jason raised a tentative hand. "I'd like to go."

"I don't think that would be wise," Blakely said sternly. "There are many rockfalls and pits in that area.
It's safer here."

Jason turned toward Ashley. "But Mom, IтАФ

Linda interrupted. "He can come with me to research the lake. The section I'll be surveying lies within the
boundaries of the camp." She turned to the boy. "Would you mind helping me, Jason?"

Ashley looked down at her blushing son. "Is that okay with you, honey?"

He nodded, his voice squeaking a bit. "Sure. I'd like that."

Linda smiled. "Then it's settled. Jason and I will be doing research."

Ben, seated on Jason's far side, nudged him with an elbow. "Way to go, champ," he whispered, but
purposefully loud enough for Ashley to hear. "Now we both have dates."

Jason covered a smile with a small hand.

Ashley rolled her eyes. Men.
 Lights out. From his window, Khalid watched the lamps wink out as the camp was put to bed, fake
sunset in the darkened cave. The importance of circadian rhythms in a darkened environment had been
explained earlier by Blakely. Peak performance required tuning the environment to a regular diurnal
pattern of darkness and light.

This worked well with his plans. Shadows wove a fine cloak.

Soon only a scattering of bulbs were still lit. Except for the searchlight by the elevator. Its shaft of light
stabbed the ceiling, circling in slow ovals around the stalactites, black fingers pointing down.

He glanced at his watch. Ten o'clock. Time to go to work. He left his room and slipped out the