"Marina Fitch - Sarah at the Tide Pool" - читать интересную книгу автора (Fitch Marina)

barnacles. A wave breaks over the far rocks in a plume of spray, the froth surging to
beat against the outcrop where Sarah waits. It sluices into her tide pool, washing
over the anemones so that they bloom into mums of tiny, undulating fingers.
Timidly, the hermit crab creeps from between their stalks.

Sarah exclaims and leans forward. The hermit crab’s shell glistens, as black as
Richard’s eyes.

Sarah looked anywhere but at Jason Whitcomb as he spoke. Her gaze traveled
the lab: a fifty-gallon tank of nudibranchs, two STMs with fractal display screens, a
multitude of cupboards, clean white counters, the coffin-shaped glass flotation tank,
the refrigeration room. And that was just what she could see. Behind the counter and
cupboards where Jason Whitcomb perched sat the Mitsubishi molecular computer,
laser diode spectrometer, a centrifuge surrounded by rows of test tubes and
pipettes; beyond that a door leading to a hall lined with the other labs and the tiny
windowless rooms that housed shared equipment.

The only world Sarah knew.

“— is vital to the company,” Jason Whitcomb said. “We need that skin to
keep us afloat — keep us competitive. Dr. Huron?”

Sarah blinked, turned to meet his gaze. “Mr. Whitcomb?”

“Jason, please,” he said.

Sarah nodded absently.

“Anyway, as you know there has been maximum security around your project
—”

“What do you want from me?”

“Sarah —”

“Dr. Huron, please.”
 He pursed his lips. “Dr. Huron,” he said distinctly. “One of our competitors,
Hansen Biomedicals, is on the verge of developing their own arti — uh, ‘organic’
skin, despite the fact that a year ago they had no such project on record.”

Sarah shook her head. “If they can create an organic skin, more power to
them. Without it, people aren’t going to be able to lead normal lives. What we’re
talking about is survival, Mr. Whitcomb.”

“Jason.” He straightened. With his shoulders squared, he looked even more
threatening. “Yes, Dr. Huron. Survival. The survival of this company. And, need I
say it? The survival of your research.”

Sarah looked away.