"Peter Watts - Bulk Food" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watts Peter)

captainтАЩs voice, but she understands. It must be hard, seeing the
Chosen Few going to make history while he just drives the boat.
She feels sorry for him. She resolves to chant with him when he
comes back to pick them up.
The captain grunts and waves her away. He sniffs and wonders,
not for the first time, if this woman remembered to clean the snails
out of those shells before incorporating them into her own personal
fashion statement. Or maybe it's one of those natural fragrances
they're advertising these days
The passengers file onto the platform. The first mate, still
holding DipnetтАЩs leash, leaps back onto the foredeck. The boat
growls backwards, changes gear, and wallows off into the haze.
The sound of her engine fades with distance.
Eventually all is quiet again. The Chosen look about eagerly,
not wanting to speak in this holy place. The orcas that guided them
here have disappeared. Swells lap against the floats. The Race
Rocks Lighthouse complains about the fog.
тАЬHey, you guys.тАЭ ItтАЩs the heretic again. He's watching the boat
recede тАЬWhen exactly are they supposed to be coming back for
us?тАЭ
The others donтАЩt answer. This is a quiet moment, a sacred
moment. ItтАЩs no time to chatter about logistics. This guy doesnтАЩt
Bulk Food 17

know the first thing about reverence. Really, sometimes they
wonder how he ever made the cut.

***

One whole Plexiglas wall looks into the turquoise arena of the
killer whale tank; a pair of tail flukes disappear up through the
surface in ratcheting increments. The opposite wall serves as little
more than a frame for the biggest flatscreen monitor Doug has ever
seen. Murky green water swirls across that display. Wriggling
wavelight reflects off a glass coffee table in the middle of the
room. An antique oak desk looms behind it like a small wooden
mesa.
In the middle of it all, Doug looks up from the floor at Anna
Marie Hamilton and Bob Finch, executive director of the
Aquarium. Anna Marie Hamilton and Bob Finch look back. This
goes on for a moment or two.
тАЬCan I help you, sir?тАЭ Finch asks at last.
тАЬIтАФI think I got lost,тАЭ Doug says, experimentally putting his
foot down on the floor. It hurts, but it feels limpable, not broken.
тАЬThe viewing gallery is that way,тАЭ Anna Marie announces,
pointing to a different door than the one through which Doug
arrived. тАЬAnd IтАЩm in the middle of some very tough negotiating,
fighting for the freedom of our spiritual sibтАФтАЭ
тАЬActually, AnnтАФMs. Hamilton, I suspect that Mr.тАФMr. тАжтАЭ
тАЬLargha,тАЭ Doug says weakly.