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

Landis flipped into the circuit. "What's the problem? Show us."



"You're not going to believe this." The face disappeared and was replaced by a wide-angle shot of the
lake.



The greenish-black water was calm and stagnant. The thrust-cone island, with its scattered grass and
weeds, slumbered.



And God walked upon the water.



They gawked, all of them. Coral walked across the lake, her pace determined but not hurried, her face
serene. The pink soles of her bare feet just touched the surface.



/ didn't believe her, Elin thought wildly. She saw Father Landis begin to cross herself, her mouth hanging
open, eyes wide in disbelief. Halfway through her gesture, the Jesuitical wet ware took hold. Her mouth
snapped shut, and her face became cold and controlled. She pulled herself up straight.



"Hans," the priest said, "push the button."



"No!" Elin shrieked, but it was too late. Still hooked into the intercom, she saw the funny little man
briskly, efficiently obey.



For an instant, nothing happened. Then bright glints of light appeared at all of the condenser units, harsh
and actinic. Steam and smoke gushed from the machinery, and a fraction of a second later, there was an
ear-slapping gout of sound.
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Bits of the sky were blown away.