"Walter Jon Williams - Dread Empire's Fall 02 - The Sundering" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Walter John)

Sula would experience the equivalent of a large, full-grown man sitting on her chest.

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 Williams, Walter Jon - [Dead Empire's Fall 02] - The Sundering



The deceleration alarm rang, the ship gave a series of long, prolonged groans, and Sula gasped with
relief as the invisible man who squatted on her rose and walked away.Dinnertime, a whole hour at a
wonderfully liberating 0.6 gravities, time to stretch her ligaments and fight the painful knots in her
muscles. After that, sheтАЩd have to stand a watch in Auxiliary Command, which was the only place
shecould stand a watch now that Command was destroyed, along withDelhi тАШs captain and a pair of
lieutenants.

Weariness dragged at her eyelids, at her heart. Sula released the webs that held her to the acceleration
couch and came to her feet, suddenly light-headed as her heart tried to make yet another adjustment to
her blood pressure. She wrenched off her helmetтАФshe was required to spend times of acceleration in a
pressure suitтАФand took a breath of air that wasnтАЩt completely saturated by her own stink. She rolled her
head on her neck and felt her vertebrae crackle, and then peeled off the medicinal patch behind her ear,
the one that fed her drugs that better enabled her to stand high gravities.

She wondered if she had time for a shower, and decided she did.

The others were finishing dinner when, in a clean pair of borrowed coveralls, Sula approached the
officersтАЩ table while sticking another med patch behind her ear. The officers now ate in the enlisted
galley, their own wardroom having been destroyed; and because their private stocks of food and liquor
had also been blown to bits they shared the enlisted fare. As the steward brought her dinner, Sula
observed that it consisted entirely of flat food, which is what happened to anything thrown in an oven
and then subjected to five hoursтАЩ constant deceleration at three gravities.

Sula inhaled the stale aroma of a flattened, highly compressed vegetable casserole, then washed the first
bite down with a flat beverageтАФthe steward knew to serve her water instead of the wine or beer that
were the usual dinner drink of the officer class.

Lieutenant Lord Jeremy Foote was in the chair opposite her, his immaculate viridian-green uniform a
testament to the industry of his servants.

тАЬYouтАЩre late,тАЭ he said.

тАЬI bathed, my lord,тАЭ Sula said. тАЬYou might try it sometime.тАЭ

This was a libel, since probably Foote didnтАЩt enjoy living in his own stench any more than she did, but
her words caused the acting captain to suppress a grin.

FooteтАЩs handsome face showed no reaction to SulaтАЩs jab. Instead he gave a close-lipped, catlike smile,
and said, тАЬI thought perhaps youтАЩd been viewing your latest letter from Captain Martinez.тАЭ

SulaтАЩs heart gave a little sideways lurch at the mention of MartinezтАЩs name, and she hoped her reaction

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