"Michael Swanwick - Trojan Horse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swanwick Michael)

She was in the presence of someone wonderful.



Elin felt that someone near at hand, and struggled to open the eyes she no longer possessed; she had to
see. Her exis-tence opened, and people began appearing before her.



"Careful," Tory said. "You've switched on the intercom again."



/ want to see!



"There's nobody to see. That's just your own mind. But if you want, you can keep the intercom on."



Oh. It was disappointing. She was surrounded by love, by a crazily happy sense that the universe was
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holy, by wisdom deeper than the world. By all rights, it had to come from a source greater than herself.



Reason was not sufficiently strong to override emotion. She riffled through the intercom, bringing up
image after image and discarding them all, searching.



When she had run through the entire project staff, she began hungrily scanning the crater's public
monitors.



Agtechs in the trellis farms were harvesting strawberries and sweet peas. Elin could taste them on her
tongue. Somebody was seining up algae from the inner lake, and she felt the weight of the net in callused
hands. Not far from where she lay, a couple was making love in a grove of saplings and-



Tory, I don't think I can take this. It's too intense.