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

six months. Plot the shipтАЩs position on a map. ThereтАЩs a bigger telescope in the hold, for when I arrive, and
theyтАЩre talking about sending a real astronomer one of these days, but in the meantime they want
photographs from sixty thousand miles out across the disk. For parallax, so they can work out how fast the
disks are moving.тАЭ
тАЬDisks.тАЭ They seem like distant abstractions to her, but JohnтАЩs enthusiasm is hard to ignore. тАЬDo you
suppose theyтАЩre like, uh, here?тАЭ She doesnтАЩt say like EarthтАУeverybody knows this isnтАЩt Earth any more. Not
the way it used to be.
тАЬMaybe.тАЭ He busies himself for a minute with a chunky film cartridge. тАЬTheyтАЩve got oxygen in their
atmospheres, we know that. And theyтАЩre big enough. But theyтАЩre most of a light year awayтАУfar closer than the
stars, but still too far for telescopes.тАЭ
тАЬOr moon rockets,тАЭ she says, slightly wistfully. тАЬOr sputniks.тАЭ
тАЬIf those things worked any more.тАЭ The film is in: he leans over the scope and brings it round to bear on the
first of the disks, a couple of degrees off from Satan. (The disks are invisible to the naked eye; it takes a
telescope to see their reflected light.) He glances up at her. тАЬDo you remember the moon?тАЭ
Maddy shrugs. тАЬI was just a kid when it happened. But I saw the moon, some nights. During the day, too.тАЭ
He nods. тАЬNot like some of the kids these days. Tell them we used to live on a big spinning sphere and they
look at you like youтАЩre mad.тАЭ
тАЬWhat do they think the speed of the disks will tell them?тАЭ She asks.
тАЬWhether theyтАЩre all as massive as this one. What they could be made of. What that tells us about who it
was that made them.тАЭ He shrugs. тАЬDonтАЩt ask me, IтАЩm just a bug-hunter. This stuff is big, bigger than bugs.тАЭ He
chuckles. тАЬItтАЩs a new world out here.тАЭ
She nods very seriously, then actually sees him for the first time: тАЬI guess it is.тАЭ




Chapter Three: Boldly Go
тАЬSo tell me, comrade colonel, how did it really feel?тАЭ
The comrade colonel laughs uneasily. HeтАЩs forty-three and still slim and boyish-looking, but carries a quiet
melancholy around with him like his own personal storm cloud. тАЬI was very busy all the time,тАЭ he says with a
self-deprecating little shrug. тАЬI didnтАЩt have time to pay attention to myself. One orbit, it only lasted ninety
minutes, what did you expect? If you really want to know, GhermanтАЩs the man to ask. He had more time.тАЭ
тАЬTime.тАЭ His interrogator sighs and leans his chair back on two legs. ItтАЩs a horribly old, rather precious Queen
Anne original, a gift to some Tsar or other many years before the October revolution. тАЬWhat a joke. Ninety
minutes, two days, thatтАЩs all we got before they changed the rules on us.тАЭ
тАЬтАЩThey,тАЩ comrade chairman?тАЭ The colonel looked puzzled.
тАЬWhoever.тАЭ The chairmanтАЩs vague wave takes in half the horizon of the richly paneled Kremlin office. тАЬWhat a
joke. Whoever they were, at least they saved us from a pasting in Cuba because of that louse Nikita.тАЭ He
pauses for a moment, then toys with the wine glass that sits, half-empty, before him. The colonel has a glass
too, but his is full of grape juice, out of consideration for his past difficulties. тАЬThe тАШwhoeverтАЩ I speak of are of
course the brother socialists from the stars who brought us here.тАЭ He grins humorlessly, face creasing like
the muzzle of a shark that smells blood in the water.
тАЬBrother socialists.тАЭ The colonel smiles hesitantly, wondering if itтАЩs a joke, and if so, whether heтАЩs allowed to
share it. HeтАЩs still unsure why heтАЩs being interviewed by the premierтАУin his private office, at that. тАЬDo we know
anything of them, sir? That is, am I supposed toтАУтАЭ
тАЬNever mind.тАЭ Aleksey sniffs, dismissing the colonelтАЩs worries. тАЬYes, youтАЩre cleared to know everything on this
topic. The trouble is there is nothing to know, and this troubles me, Yuri Alexeyevich. We infer purpose, the
engine of a greater history at workтАУbut the dialectic is silent on this matter. I have consulted the experts,
asked them to read the chicken entrails, but none of them can do anything other than parrot pre-event
dogma: тАШany species advanced enough to do to us what happened that day must of course have evolved true