"Alastair Reynolds - Great Wall Of Mars" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Alastair)

Alastair Reynolds
Great Wall of Mars
Here’s a relentless, wildly inventive, pyrotechnic thriller, paced like a runaway freight train, that
takes us to Mars for a mission of peace that instead leads us ever deeper into the heart of war…

New writer Alastair Reynolds is a frequent contributor toInterzone,and has also sold to Asimov’s
Science Fiction, Spectrum SF,and elsewhere. His first novel, Revelation Space,is being widely
hailed as one of the major SF books of the year; coming up is a sequel, Chasm City.A
professional scientist with a Ph.D. in astronomy, he comes from Wales, but lives in the
Netherlands, where he works for the European Space Agency.

You realize you might die down there,” said Warren.

Nevil Clavain looked into his brother’s one good eye; the one the Conjoiners had left him with
after the battle of Tharsis Bulge. “Yes, I know,” he said. “But if there’s another war, we might all
die. I’d rather take that risk, if there’s a chance for peace.”

Warren shook his head, slowly and patiently. “No matter how many times we’ve been over this,
you just don’t seem to get it, do you? There can’t ever be any kind of peace while they’re still
down there. That’s what you don’t understand, Nevil. The only long-term solution here is…” he
trailed off.

“Go on,” Clavain goaded. “Say it. Genocide.”

Warren might have been about to answer when there was a bustle of activity down the docking
tube, at the far end from the waiting spacecraft. Through the door Clavain saw a throng of media
people, then someone gliding through them, fielding questions with only the curtest of answers.
That was Sandra Voi, the Demarchist woman who would be coming with him to Mars.

“It’s not genocide when they’re just a faction, not an ethnically distinct race,” Warren said,
before Voi was within earshot.

“What is it, then?”

“I don’t know. Prudence?”

Voi approached. She bore herself stiffly, her face a mask of quiet resignation. Her ship had only
just docked from Circum-Jove, after a three-week transit at maximum burn. During that time the
prospects for a peaceful resolution of the current crisis had steadily deteriorated.

“Welcome to Deimos,” Warren said.
“Marshalls,” she said, addressing both of them. “I wish the circumstances were better. Let’s get
straight to business. Warren; how long do you think we have to find a solution?”

“Not long. If Galiana maintains the pattern she’s been following for the last six months, we’re
due another escape attempt in…” Warren glanced at a readout buried in his cuff. “About three
days. If she does try and get another shuttle off Mars, we’ll really have no option but to escalate.”

They all knew what that would mean: a military strike against the Conjoiner nest.