"Jeff Verona - Field Day" - читать интересную книгу автора (Verona Jeff)

center. All the time I was bumping in things, fumbling objects, making
endless
small adjustments in my movements. Tevi, however, moved like a dancer.
Young,
earnest, sure of herself.
Which meant trouble. IтАЩd been an Educational Compliance Officer for a dozen
years. Tevi was new to the job; this trip to Sovereignty would be her first
on-site inspection. IтАЩd already given her The Lecture, told her that as
ECOs
our sole job was to make sure the children were meeting the educational
 standards. That and only that. To observe, not to judge. SheтАЩd nodded her
agreement, but behind her clear eyes and her flawless dark face was an
impenetrable wall of righteousness. She probably didnтАЩt even know it was
there, since she had grown up on Harmony, one of the utopian habitats on
EarthтАЩs Trojan points. As a society founded by rich and earnest people
dedicated to stamping out racism, nationalism, and ethnocentricity, they
took
pride in their perfectly balanced culture, and they were eager to share its
virtues with everyone else. Even those who didnтАЩt want it.
The Lagrange and Trojan points contain two hundred and seventeen different
habitats, each with a distinct culture and government. The only things
holding
them together are the Registry and Educational Compliance. Most people
accept
the Registry as a necessary evilтАФsomeone has to play traffic cop, after
allтАФbut they loathe the EC. "Meddling" and "incompetent" were the highest
praise IтАЩd been given by my clients. Sure, in theory everyone agreed that
children had to be educated to some minimum standard, a standard that had
to
apply across all of space. Unfortunately, everyone thought their kids were
doing just fine and that the other guy was the problem. Then there were the
ultra-libertarians, like Sovereignty, who opposed the EC on principle.
IтАЩd been dreading this trip for weeks. Breaking in a new partner was bad
enough, and Tevi, with her odd accent and earnest beliefs and coal-black
skin,
would be a true challenge for myself and the good people of Sovereignty.
Two hours and half to deceleration. I grabbed a handful of blue nylon
webbing
and tacked myself to a couch, hoping to catch a quick nap before we docked.
My
eyes closed. Silence, at first, then the faint whisper of the
climate-control
system. I breathed deeply, tasting cool air and a small sour tang of sweat,
the faint funk of humanity that no air recycler could ever quite banish.
Ship-smell.
A shudder awoke me. Glancing up, I saw Tevi standing against a console, one
foot braced on a bulkhead. "We are docking," she said.
"All right." I twisted out of my chair, moving carefully in the false
gravity
of the declaration burn. "Got your badge?"