"Anderson, Poul - Operation Luna" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anderson Poul)

As late as our frantic search had made us, we were lucky to find a place
at the edge of the employees' parking lot. It was jammed. Besides their
vehicles, we spied those of journalists, VIPs, and Lord knows who else
had wangled admission. We barely eased in between a chrome-plated
Cadillac and an old Honda with a sweep of withered but real straw. As we
settled it into the rack and got off, our Jaguar waggled its shaft. The
sprite in it never had liked close quarters. Ginny bent over to stroke
the spotty-furry rear end and make soothing noises. It calmed down. We
hiked off fast across the paving, through the cold. Our footfalls
clattered beneath the Swan, the Dragon, and the ascending moon.

As we neared the gate, illumination took most night away from us. The
chain-link fence stretched right and left for a mile or more, its
witch-lights dwindling off into darkness. Here the edisons glared.
Though the physical barrier was just fifteen feet high, I winded a
little of the forces that charged it and warded the compound on every
quarter, zenith and nadir included.

Since we already wore badges spelled to our identities, we had no
rigmarole to go through. They were special, of course. I didn't draw my
pay from NASA but from Nornwell Scryotronics back in the Midwest, which
had a contract to develop space communication systems. It had gotten me
seconded to Cardinal Point as an engineer. My boss, Barney Sturlason,
knew well that my lifelong dream had been to work on celestonautics. He
also knew that a happy man is a productive man. As for Ginny, who ran
her Artemis Consultancy out of our home, we'd more than once had
occasion to sic her onto some or other weird problem.

One of the guards knew us. "Why, hello, Mr. and Mrs.--uh, Dr. Matuchek,"
he greeted. "I was getting afraid you wouldn't make it. You're barely in
time, unless they put a hold on the countdown."

"I know," I said.

"Wasn't your daughter coming along? And what about Dr. Graylock, ma'am?"

"We had babysitter woes," Ginny explained, "and my brother isn't feeling
well."

"Too bad. Sure wish I could watch from where you're going to. A medicine
man from Acoma Pueblo who's here, I heard him mention sensing how even
spirits have come to see, heap big spirits."

"Leave that to the professionals," I snapped, "and let us by, for God's
sake."

Immediatedly I regretted my impatience. He'd intended friendliness.
Hurt, he retorted, "Well, Mr. Matuchek, you remember the rules. The moon
is up, but nobody's supposed to change shape."