"Rusch-WithoutEnd" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rusch Kristine Kathryn)

Geneva called the point where the sea met the sky infinity. In the dark, it
seemed even more vast than it did in the day. He put the blanket on the sand,
set the cooler to the side, and leaned on the driftwood log.

He managed to arrive on the dark side of the moon. The night sky was full of
stars, points of light, points of history. To their friends, these stars could
be dead, but to him, they lived, and twinkled, and smiled for one last show. His
mind could grasp each point of light, see it for what it was, and for its
pattern, feel the backdrop of blackness against it and beyond.

The ocean spoke to him in its constant roar, and beneath it, he heard Geneva's
voice talking about sound and waves, waves and sound. Inspiting, she had said,
and so it was.

The edge of the universe was just beyond his imagination. The whole universe was
within his grasp. He didn't want to see the big bang or the end of everything.
He didn't want to see all of time, nor all of time and space. Only those points
of light that were Geneva, from her birth to her death and back again. He wanted
to hold all of those points in his mind at the same time, to be lying with her
on the dock at the same time he sat here alone, to be holding her hand in the
hospital while they played at intellectual foreplay in her dorm. He wanted his
mind to be like the sky, holding history, the future, and infinity at the same
time.

Geneva.

She was out there, in time and space, each moment of her existence a moment for
him to hold.

He cast his mind into the inky blackness --

-- and felt the barriers break.