"Elizabeth Moon. The Speed of Dark " - читать интересную книгу автора

"It's my secret tournament shot," Tom said, pushing his mask back.
"Someone did it to me twelve years ago, and I came home and practiced until
I could do it to a stump... and normally I use it only in competition. But
you're ready to learn it. There's only one trick." He was grinning, his
face streaked with sweat.
"Hey!" Don yelled across the yard. "I didn't see that. Do it again,
huh?"
"What is the trick?" I ask.
"You have to figure out how to do it for yourself. You're welcome to
my stump, but you've just had all the demonstration you're going to get. I
will mention that if you don't get it exactly right, you're dead meat to an
opponent who doesn't panic. You saw how easy it was to parry the off-hand
weapon."
"Tom, you haven't showed me that one-do it again," Don said.
"You're not ready," Tom said. "You have to earn it." He sounds angry
now, just as Lucia did. What has Don done to make them angry? He hasn't
stretched and gets tired really fast, but is that a good reason? I can't
ask now, but I will ask later.
I take my mask off and walk over to stand near Marjory. From above I
can see the lights reflecting from her shiny dark hair. If I move back and
forth, the lights run up and down her hair, as the light ran up and down
Tom's blades. I wonder what her hair would feel like.
"Have my seat," Lucia says, standing up. "I'm going to fight again."
I sit down, very conscious of Marjory beside me. "Are you going to
fence tonight?" I ask.
"Not tonight. I have to leave early. My friend Karen's coming in at
the airport, and I promised to pick her up. I just stopped by to see...
people."
I want to tell her I'm glad she did, but the words stick in my mouth.
I feel stiff and awkward. "Karen is coming from where?" I finally say.
"Chicago. She was visiting her parents." Marjory stretches her legs
out in front of her. "She was going to leave her car at the airport, but
she had a flat the morning she left. That's why I have to pick her up." She
turns to look at me; I glance down, unable to bear the heat of her gaze.
"Are you going to stay long tonight?"
"Not that long," I say. If Marjory is leaving and Don is staying, I
will go home.
"Want to ride out to the airport with me? I could bring you back by
here to pick up your car. Of course, it'll make you late getting home; her
plane won't be in until ten-fifteen."
Ride with Marjory? I am so surprised/happy that I can't move for a
long moment. "Yes," I say. "Yes." I can feel my face getting hot.

O n the way to the airport, I look out the window. I feel light, as if
I could float up into the air. "Being happy makes it feel like less than
normal gravity," I say.
I feel Marjory's glance. "Light as a feather," she says. "Is that what
you mean?"
"Maybe not a feather. I feel more like a balloon," I say.
"I know that feeling," Marjory says. She doesn't say she feels like