"Charles Stross - Missile Gap" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stross Charles)

But back to the here-and-now: sheтАЩs sitting on the deck of an elderly ocean liner on her way from somewhere
to nowhere, and sheтАЩs annoyed because Bob is getting drunk with the F-deck boys again and eating into their
precious grubstake. ItтАЩs too dark to read the shipтАЩs daily news sheet (mimeographed blurry headlines from a
world already fading into the shipтАЩs wake), itтАЩll be at least two weeks before their next landfall (a refueling
depot somewhere in what the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration surveyorsтАУin a fit of
uncharacteristic witтАУnamed the Nether Ocean), and sheтАЩs half out of her skull with boredom.
When they signed up for the Emigration Board tickets Bob had joked: тАЬA six month cruise? After a vacation
like that weтАЩll be happy to get back to work!тАЭтАУbut somehow the sheer immensity of it all didnтАЩt sink in until the
fourth week out of sight of land. In those four weeks theyтАЩd crawled an expanse of ocean wider than the
Pacific, pausing to refuel twice from huge rust-colored barges: and still they were only a sixth of the way to
Continent F-204, New Iowa, immersed like the ultimate non-sequitur in the ocean that replaced the worldтАЩs
horizons on October 2, 1962. Two weeks later they passed The Radiators. The Radiators thrust from the
oceanic depths to the stratosphere, Everest-high black fins finger-combing the watery currents. Beyond them
the tropical heat of the Pacific gave way to the sub-arctic chill of the Nether Ocean. Sailing between them,
the ship was reduced to the proportions of a cockroach crawling along a canyon between skyscrapers.
Maddy had taken one look at these guardians of the interplanetary ocean, shuddered, and retreated into their
cramped room for the two days it took to sail out from between the slabs.
Bob kept going on about how materials scientists from NOAA and the National Institutes were still trying to
understand what they were made of, until Maddy snapped at him. He didnтАЩt seem to understand that they
were the bars on a prison cell. He seemed to see a waterway as wide as the English Channel, and a gateway
to the future: but Maddy saw them as a sign that her old life was over.
If only Bob and her father hadnтАЩt argued; or if Mum hadnтАЩt tried to pick a fight with her over BobтАУMaddy leans
on the railing and sighs, and a moment later nearly jumps out of her skin as a strange man clears his throat
behind her.
тАЬExcuse me, I didnтАЩt mean to disturb you.тАЭ
тАЬThatтАЩs alright,тАЭ Maddy replies, irritated and trying to conceal it. тАЬI was just going in.тАЭ
тАЬA shame: itтАЩs a beautiful night,тАЭ says the stranger. He turns and puts down a large briefcase next to the
railing, fiddling with the latches. тАЬNot a cloud in sight, just right for stargazing.тАЭ She focuses on him, seeing
short hair, small paunch, and a worried thirty-something face. He doesnтАЩt look back, being preoccupied with
something that resembles a photographerтАЩs tripod.
тАЬIs that a telescope?тАЭ she asks, eyeing the stubby cylindrical gadget in his case.
тАЬYes.тАЭ An awkward pause. тАЬNameтАЩs John Martin. Yourself?тАЭ
тАЬMaddy Holbright.тАЭ Something about his diffident manner puts her at ease. тАЬAre you settling? I havenтАЩt seen
you around.тАЭ
He straightens up and tightens joints on the tripodтАЩs legs, screwing them into place. тАЬIтАЩm not a settler, IтАЩm a
researcher. Five years, all expenses paid, to go and explore a new continent.тАЭ He carefully lifts the telescope
body up and lowers it onto the platform, then begins tightening screws. тАЬAnd IтАЩm supposed to point this thing
at the sky and make regular observations. IтАЩm actually an entomologist, but there are so many things to do
that they want me to be a jack of all trades, I guess.тАЭ
тАЬSo theyтАЩve got you to carry a telescope, huh? I donтАЩt think IтАЩve ever met an entomologist before.тАЭ
тАЬA bug-hunter with a telescope,тАЭ he agrees: тАЬkind of unexpected.тАЭ
Intrigued, Maddy watches as he screws the viewfinder into place then pulls out a notebook and jots
something down. тАЬWhat are you looking at?тАЭ
He shrugs. тАЬThereтАЩs a good view of S-Doradus from here,тАЭ he says. тАЬYou know, Satan? And his two little
angels.тАЭ
Maddy glances up at the violent pinprick of light, then looks away before it can burn her eyes. ItтАЩs a star, but
bright enough to cast shadows from half a light yearтАЩs distance. тАЬThe disks?тАЭ
тАЬThem.тАЭ ThereтАЩs a camera body in his bag, a chunky old Bronica from back before the Soviets swallowed
Switzerland and Germany whole. He carefully screws it onto the telescopeтАЩs viewfinder. тАЬThe Institute wants
me to take a series of photographs of themтАУnothing fancy, just the best this eight-inch reflector can doтАУover