"Kim Stanley Robinson - Red Mars" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robinson Kim Stanley)

year-old planetary surface."
Russell rubbed away more spider webs. "It's dead," he said simply.
"Besides, it's not really our decision. It'll be taken out of our hands."
"None of these decisions will be taken out of our hands," Arkady put
in sharply.
Janet looked from speaker to speaker, taking it all in. Ann was getting
agitated, raising her voice. Maya glanced around, and saw that Frank
didn't like the situation. But if he interrupted it he would give away to the
millions the fact that he didn't want the colonists arguing in front of them.
Instead he looked across the table and caught Boone's gaze. There was an
exchange of expressions between the two so quick it made Maya blink.
Boone said, "When I was there before, I got the impression it was
already Earthlike."
"Except two hundred degrees Kelvin," Russell said.
"Sure, but it looked like the Mojave, or the Dry Valleys. The first
time I looked around on Mars I found myself keeping an eye out for one of
those mummified seals we saw in the Dry Valleys."
And so on. Janet turned to him; and Ann, looking disgusted, picked
up her coffee and left.
Afterward Maya concentrated, trying to recall the looks Boone and
Chalmers had exchanged. They had been like something from a code, or
the private languages invented by identical twins.
# # #
The weeks passed, and the days each began with a leisurely breakfast.
Mid-mornings were far busier. Everyone had a schedule, although some
were fuller than others. Frank's was packed, which was the way he liked it,
a maniacal blur of activity. But the necessary work was not really all that
great: they had to keep themselves alive and in shape, and keep the ship
running, and keep preparing for Mars. Ship maintenance ranged from the
intricacy of programming or repairs to the simplicity of moving supplies
out of storage, or taking trash to the recyclers. The biosphere team spent
the bulk of its time on the farm, which occupied large parts of Toruses C,
E, and F; and everyone aboard had farm chores. Most enjoyed this work,
and some even returned in their free hours. Everyone was on doctors'
orders to spend three hours a day on treadmills, escalators, running wheels,
or using weight machines. These hours were enjoyed or endured or
despised, depending on temperament; but even those who claimed to
despise them finished their exercises in noticably (even measurably) better
moods. "Beta endorphins are the best drug," Michel Duval would say.
"Which is lucky, since we don't have any others," Arkady would
reply.
"Oh, there's caffeine…"
"Puts me to sleep."
"Alcohol. . ."
"Gives me a headache."
"Procaine, darvon, morphine—"
"Morphine?"
"In the medical supplies. Not for general use."
Arkady smiled. "Maybe I'd better get sick."
The engineers, including Maya, spent many mornings in training