"Kathleen Ann Goonan - The Bones of Time" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goose Mother)

 Her daughter Kaiulani, the sole surviving heir of the Hawaiian
royal family, was twelve years old.


Lynn
Honolulu 2034




1

Lynn Oshima paced, then whirled, short-stepping within a larger
rhythm to leap a pothole. Caught in the endorphin flow of running,
she let every objection to the pain dissolve in pure white energy. She
could forget, when running, that she knew too much about the
illegal genetic work of Interspace—IS—because it was based on
work that she had done. She could forget that she chose to do
nothing about it. She could forget Nana’s constant criticism of her
Zygote Clinic embryo, implanted two months ago.
And she could almost forget, in the glow that emanated from
everything after the first three miles, that despite her disgust with
IS, she was nevertheless powerfully tempted by the completely
off-the-record offer of her brother James, a top Interspace official, to
fly to Hong Kong and be the liaison in a black-market deal to buy
some of Mao’s bone marrow. James was ignoring a month-old
ultimatum from her that she was through with his shady deals. He
knew that information was an even more powerful addiction for her
than endorphins.
Downtown Honolulu was glorious this morning. Glass towers,
bathed in golden sunrise, surrounded her. The deep green Koolau
Mountains were suddenly revealed like a vision of paradise as the
morning trades pushed heavy clouds past Hickam Spacebase and
then out to sea. Lynn pulled cool pure air deep into her lungs. A
silent, open maglev coasted past her, and two lawyers getting an
early start stepped out onto the rain-damp street.
 The Chinese flower woman smiled at Lynn as she ran past bright
orange sheaves of bird-of-paradise set in tall black containers. That
gloomy Nana, trying to make her feel bad about deciding to have a
baby! Let her huddle in her ancient Japanese shack, taking her
old-fashioned blood pressure pills instead of getting an implant,
and mutter about how terrible the world had become, and her
son—practically the head of Interspace—and grandchildren along
with it!
She felt a brief stab of pain but ignored it. She’d feel better in a
minute. She’d left the Zendo because she’d felt sick. She went every
morning at 4:30 a.m., walking down dark Nuuanu to the corner Zen
church, next to the Japanese Embassy. This morning, leaves had
rustled and drops from a sudden shower spat through the screen
next to where Lynn sat, eyes unfocused, erect, as in some utterly new