"Larry Niven - Fallen Angels" - читать интересную книгу автора (Niven Larry)

to give bite to the control surfaces, a pilot must call it
had fallen down the cellar steps once in a childhood
vacuum.
home he scarcely recalled. Tumbling, arms flailing, Something had prodded Gordon awake. Alex glanced
head thumping hard against the concrete floor. He to the right. "What is it?"
hadn't been hurt; not really. He'd been too small to How could you explain the sweetness to someone who
mass up enough kinetic energy. But he recalled the had never conned a ship? You couldn't. He relaxed in
"I'm getting a reading on the air temperature gauge!"
terror vividly. Now he was a lot bigger, and he would the acceleration chair, feeling the tingling in his hands
fall a lot farther. and feet. The itching anticipation. Oh, to be useful
"Right. There's enough air outside now to have a
again, even if for a moment.
temperature."

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Gordon nodded, still unbelieving. they're your eyes and ears. But you've got to listen with Scandinavians and the Russians took a nervous look
your hands and feet and ass, too. Make the ship an over their shoulders at the glaciers, and East versus
Gordon had read the book. Come to that, Gordon read extension of your entire body. Do you feel it? That West became North versus South."
a lot of books, but books don't mean much. No one rush? That's air moving past us at five miles per
ever learned anything out of a book, anyway. This was second. Newton's not flying us anymore. You are." "Silly bastards. Nye kulturni."
why they always teamed a newbie with an old pro.
Hands-on learning. The problem with on-the-job Gordon flashed a nervous grin, like he'd just discovered "Da." It didn't surprise him anymore. All the younger
training for this job was that there was not a hell of a lot sex. Floaters spoke Russian as automatically as English.
of room for trial and error. Alex moved the stick gently, Russlish? Ever since Peace and Freedom had pooled
and felt the ship respond. Not vacuum anymore! He "What's our flight path?" Alex asked. their resources, everyone was supposed to learn each
banked and brought them up level, feeling the air other's language; but Alex hadn't gotten past "Ya tebye
rushing past just outside the skin. His eyes danced "Uh . . ." A quick glance at the map rollout. "Greenland lyublyu." Hello was "zdravstvuitye." Alex thought there
across the gauges. Here. There. Not reading them. was something masochistic about speaking a language
upcoming."
Just a glance to see if something was wrong, or if that strung so many consonants together. "Be fair,
something had changed since the last glance. Dynamic Gordon. If you had ice growing a mile thick in your
air temperature. Stagnation air temperature. The Mach "Good. Hate to be over Norway." backyard, wouldn't you want to move south?"
number needle sprang to life, leaped from zero to
absurdity, then hunted across the dial. A grin stretched "Why?"
Gordon mulled it. "Why south?"
itself across his face. No blues now. He hadn't forgotten
at all; not a damned thing. Why. Didn't the kid listen to the downside news
He couldn't help the grin. "Never mind. Let me take her
broadcasts? Gordon, this is your planet! Don't you
again. Hang on, while I kill some velocity. Watch what I
care? No, he probably didn't. It was his grandparents
"What is funny?" Gordon demanded. do and follow me." He stroked the stick gently.
planet.
"Old war-horse heard the trumpet again. Now it's your
Here we go, baby. You'll love this. Drop the scoop face-
turn. Take the stick." Fun was fun, but it was time for "There's war in Norway. If we flew over, somebody
on to the wind. Open wide. That's right. Spread your
the kid to wrap his hands around the real thing. There would cruise a missile at us sure as moonquakes, and tail, just for a moment ... Alex realized that his lips were
was only so much you could do in a simulator. "There. we'd never even know which side did it." moving and clamped them shut. The younger ones
Feel it?"