"Michael Swanwick - Slow Life" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swanwick Michael)

Sometimes it's the little things that make you
happiest. Somebody would spend a _year_ studying this one
little raindrop when Lizzie got it home. And it was just Bag
64 in Collecting Case 5. She was going to be on the surface
of Titan long enough to scoop up the raw material of a
revolution in planetary science. The thought of it filled
her with joy.
Lizzie dogged down the lid of the collecting box and
began to skip across the granite-hard ice, splashing the
puddles and dragging the boot of her atmosphere suit through
the rivulets of methane pouring down the mountainside._ "I'm
sing-ing in the rain."_ She threw out her arms and spun
around. _"Just sing-ing in the rain!"_
"Uh ... O'Brien?" Alan Greene said from the
_Clement_. "Are you all right?"
_"Dum-dee-dum-dee-dee-dum-dum, I'm ... some-thing
again."_
"Oh, leave her alone." Consuelo Hong said with sour
good humor. She was down on the plains, where the methane
simply boiled into the air, and the ground was covered with
thick, gooey tholin. It was, she had told them, like wading
ankle-deep in molasses. "Can't you recognize the scientific
method when you hear it?"
"If you say so," Alan said dubiously. He was stuck in
the _Clement_, overseeing the expedition and minding the
website. It was a comfortable gig -- _he_ wouldn't be
sleeping in his suit _or_ surviving on recycled water and
energy stix -- and he didn't think the others knew how much
he hated it.
"What's next on the schedule?" Lizzie asked.
"Um ... well, there's still the robot turbot to be
released. How's that going, Hong?"
"Making good time. I oughta reach the sea in a couple
of hours."
"Okay, then it's time O'Brien rejoined you at the
lander. O'Brien, start spreading out the balloon and going
over the harness checklist."
"Roger that."
"And while you're doing that, I've got today's voice-
posts from the Web cued up."
Lizzie groaned, and Consuelo blew a raspberry. By
NAFTASA policy, the ground crew participated in all
webcasts. Officially, they were delighted to share their
experiences with the public. But the VoiceWeb (privately,
Lizzie thought of it as the Illiternet) made them accessible
to people who lacked even the minimal intellectual skills
needed to handle a keyboard.
"Let me remind you that we're on open circuit here,
so anything you say will go into my reply. You're certainly
welcome to chime in at any time. But each question-and-