"Karen Traviss - Nanny Estate" - читать интересную книгу автора (Traviss Karen)

looking over a precipice. Barton knew he would be the hardest to convince.
"Yes."
Martin showed neither acceptance nor disbelief. "I'm not sure how you're
using
the term intelligence. This isn't some sort of AI, is it?"
"No, not at all. It doesn't actually thinkтАФwe're not that advanced, not
yet.
This material could be described as able to learn, but it has a limited
capacity. The nanites only operate within their own speciality and work
with
the others. They're not about to write the works of Shakespeare."
Barton nodded in the direction of the featureless ground. "Just a small
demonstration. And stick these badges on, please." He marked both officers
with an adhesive grey disc. "This will take a little time."
Fortified from time to time by coffee and sandwiches in the February chill,
they watched while a definite shape began to emerge on the ground before
them,
like a low wall being erected by invisible hands. At first it was grey like
a
wasps' nest: the next day it became suffused with green.
 "Chlorophyll," explained Barton. He wasnтАЩt surprised the two officers came
back to the site every day. "To generate its own energy."
Walls flowed upwards: transparent irising windows formed. Doors appeared,
as
if by an artistтАЩs hand. Mrs. James and Martin stared in silence, hugging
their
coats to them. Before them now was a small green shed, with curved walls and
a
gently domed roof."Let's look inside," said Barton. As they moved forward,
the
doors parted.
"How'd they do that?" asked Mrs. James.
"That grey badge is an external key," Barton explained. "Like you have on a
cat collar to open the cat-flap."
"Do I get a litter-tray as well?"
"It can cope with that, too, don't worry," Barton said. "Now, what do you
think of this?"
There was no room for Martin, who stood outside and waited his turn. Mrs.
James and Barton squeezed within the structure, and the roof blossomed with
transparent patches. The space was quiet and filled with light, a world
away
from the dull day beyond. Barton looked up at the ceiling with the awe of a
worshipper.
"You're really into this, aren't you?" Mrs. James whispered. It seemed to
have
struck her as a church, too. "You really believe in it."
"You might say it's my baby," he said. "I hate all this earth-flattening
and
stacking up high-rises. It's time for something kinder. Fortunately the
university here has a bit of vision - it was the only organisation prepared