"Terry Dowling - Roadsong" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dowling Terry)

"Equally mysterious, Captain Tyson." Archimbault's face wore a look of genuine puzzlement. "He told me
I would stand at the heart of a dead star and watch a myth re-born."
As a man who lived at the edge of myths, Tom was clearly intrigued by that remark, but the ecologist
could tell him no more.
"If Starman Guy is speaking for Ha-Ha," Tom said, "these predictions may become more real than we
would wish."
"Or it may be simple destiny," the Lady Say added in her cool emotionless tones.
Ty and Ti turned unreadable glances on the creop then moved to the starboard rail. Hugh Archimbault
and Tamas Hamm followed without a word.

Gibber desert under a gibbous moon.
At 2300, Rynosseros pulled to a stop at the side of the Road, responding to comsat requests for a series
of stationary scans. Tom stood at the rail, watching the black emptiness, listening to the ship-sounds and,
beyond them, the near-total silence. Now and then he glanced down at the play of lights on the creop's
sensor plate.
"You did well today," the voice came.
"Pardon me?"
"It's been difficult. You handled the Ladies well."
"All the Ladies?"
"Yes. All the Ladies. You're doing what you can."
"Lady Say . . ."
"Serenya, Tom. My friend name."
"It's an honour . . ."
"For me too. You gave me this. Carried me. I find, oh how can I say it . . ?"
"Serenya, I wonder at the whole plan. This is a major commitment; Ha-Ha has some intricate strategy in
mind."
"Yes?"
"I wonder if this might be a diversion for some other scheme. Then I wonder if he could in fact arrange it
for Ty and Ti to meet at Port Allure, if he could engineer that and so this journey now. Even directed
your own movements somehow, supplied you with a set of motives. Was Starman Guy ever engaged at
your court? Brought in for entertainment?"
"No, Tom. I saw the fortune-teller on the quay, but never before that. You've had dealings with
highwaymen, I know."
"Timms, Buchanan, several others. Never Ha-Ha. Serenya, does your container have imaging function?"
"Yes."
"You don't use it?"
"I prefer to be what I am, not what I was."
"You are what you were."
"And you are far too golden, my Captain. It really should be kept for the others. Being restante makes
you cynical and wise in equal parts. Patient, grateful and cynical. Achingly vulnerable too. Painfully
philosophical. Am I human?"
"Am I?"
The Israel Board flashed its palette of jewels. "When I was a girl - oh, when was I? was I ever? - I once
wore a tall animal mask. I looked out through gauze in the mouth, but other children would keep looking
up at the false eyes. It's like that using a projection, Tom. At first it's a relief - everyone's attention is on
the holoform. Then you hate it. It's as if you don't exist. They do not see you as you. I prefer their bottle
jokes. I'm envied enough for a long life, though it was my husband's choice, not mine."
Which hinted at a former beauty, at something somehow mocked by this cool metal container now
making lonely semaphores in the night.
There was a silence.