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

minutes before the flight's scheduled arrival.
This is not the way it used to be. I don't remember that, of course-I
was born at the turn of the century-but my parents told me about being able
to just walk right up to the gates to meet people arriving. Then after the
2001 disasters, only departing passengers could go to the gates. That was
so awkward for people who needed help, and so many people asked for special
passes, that the government designed these arrival lounges instead, with
separate security lines. By the time my parents took me on an airplane for
the first time, when I was nine, all large airports had separated arriving
and departing passengers.
I look out the big windows. Lights everywhere. Red and green lights on
the tips of the airplanes' wings. Rows of dim square lights along the
planes, showing where the windows are. Headlights on the little vehicles
that pull baggage carts. Steady lights and blinking lights.
"Can you talk now?" Marjory asks while I'm still looking out at the
lights.
"Yes." I can feel her warmth; she is standing very close beside me. I
close my eyes a moment. "I just... I can get confused." I point to an
airplane coming toward a gate. "Is that the one?"
"I think so." She moves around me and turns to face me. "Are you all
right?"
"Yes. It just... happens that way sometimes." I am embarrassed that it
happened tonight, the first time I have ever been alone with Marjory. I
remember in high school wanting to talk to girls who didn't want to talk to
me. Will she go away, too? I could get a taxi back to Tom and Lucia's, but
I don't have a lot of money with me.
"I'm glad you're okay," Marjory says, and then the door opens and
people start coming off the plane. She is watching for Karen, and I am
watching her. Karen turns out to be an older woman, gray-haired. Soon we
are all back outside and then on the way to Karen's apartment. I sit
quietly in the backseat, listening to Marjory and Karen talk. Their voices
flow and ripple like swift water over rocks. I can't quite follow what
they're talking about. They go too fast for me, and I don't know the people
or places they speak of. It's all right, though, because I can watch
Marjory without having to talk at the same time.
When we get back to Tom and Lucia's, where my car is, Don has gone and
the last of the fencing group are packing things in their car. I remember
that I did not put my blades and mask away and go outside to collect them,
but Tom has picked them up, he says. He wasn't sure what time we would get
back; he didn't want to leave them out in the dark.
I say good-bye to Tom and Lucia and Marjory and drive home in the
swift dark.


Chapter Three

M y messager is blinking when I get home. It's Lars's code; he wants
me to come on-line. It's late. I don't want to oversleep and be late
tomorrow. But Lars knows I fence on Wednesdays, and he doesn't usually try
to contact me then. It must be important.