"C. Sanford Lowe & G. David Nordley - The Small Pond" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lowe C Sanford)

“It’s your show now,” the younger man said.
She nodded. “Captain DeRoot, I want your assurance, and Mr. Gunheim’s,
that there will be no interference with my work in the Lacaille 9352 system in support
of the Black Hole Project.”
 He snorted. “That’s beyond my power.”
“You had best hope not,” Liz countered.
“It may be in the best interest of the ship to have you two hibernating for the
remainder of the journey.”
He might, Liz realized, be able to order the ship’s AI to do just that. Then,
while they were totally out of touch, any sort of revenge might be orchestrated.
“Then,” David said calmly, “we would be unable to keep the encrypted data
from being released where we have sent it.”
“A moment.” DeRoot turned away from them and stared at a wall screen that
showed stars gliding by with the ship’s rotation. They waited.
Then he turned back and smiled. “Very well. I apologize. I’ll speak to Roger
and Cyan, I’m sure there will be no problem.” He sighed. “Eternity is a long time,
and if our paths cross again, perhaps I won’t make such a mess of it.”
“For the rest of this trip, don’t even think about it,” she replied.
DeRoot rolled his eyes up and nodded. “Well, enjoy the rest of the trip, Ms.
Avonford, Mr. Levi. If you need anything from your Captain, don’t hesitate to ask.”
They were back on record, Liz surmised. She nodded and led David away.
As soon as they were halfway around the tube and out of sight and sound of
anything, she pulled him close and squeezed him with all her not inconsiderable
strength.
****
Chapter 3
At Minot, Lacaille 9352
(Campbell) System, 5 October 2272
David couldn’t help but gasp as their shuttle exited the access tunnel into
Minot, the main Campbell system residential habitat. He, Liz, and Judi had flown in
from the south pole, where the landing docks were, into what looked like a huge
Chinese lantern, its insides filled with fields, forests, and streams. Beside them was a
snow-covered alpine terrain in the shadow of a huge dark disk that floated ahead of
them.
“That’s the back end of the secondary reflector,” their guide shouted over the
hum of the shuttle’s fans.
David nodded and smiled; they’d retracted the shuttle canopy and were sitting
in the crisp open air, feeling and smelling very much like a bright, late winter day in
St. Petersburg. The scale still overwhelmed him.
 Liz Avonford grinned at him as the crisp breeze of their flight streamed her
hair behind her. His heart beat faster, anticipating. She had long since succeeded in
convincing him that she wasn’t just being grateful for helping her, but was deeply
into the erotic arts. She initiated everything—instructed, taught, and occasionally
used him to achieve her own erotic nirvana. He worried a bit about being so totally
dominated, about just being along for the ride. But what a ride!
They nosed down and began scudding over the sculpted, snow-covered crags
of polar Minot.
“Ten minutes to Lenore,” their guide announced.
They crossed the sun line. Rock and gravel gave way to terraces of meadow,
and soon the first trees shot by beneath them. The vastness of the habitat spread out