"James Rollins - Black Order" - читать интересную книгу автора (Romeyn Henry)

antithetical research: to study the physiologic effects of /oiv-pressure systems.Hence, this trip to the Roof
of the World.
Lisa repositioned for another shot of Taski Sherpa. Like many of his people, Taski had taken his ethnic
group as his surname.
The man stepped away from the flapping line of prayer flags, firmly nodded his head, and pointed a
cigarette pinched between two fingers at the towering peak. "Bad day. Death ride deese winds," he
repeated, then replaced his cigarette and turned away. The matter settled.
But not for the others in their group.
Sounds of disappointment flowed through the climbing party. Faces stared at the cloudless blue skies
overhead. The ten-man climbing team had been waiting nine days for a weather window to open. Before
now, no one had argued against the good sense of not climbing during the past week's storm. The
weather had been stirred up by a cyclone spinning off the Bay of Bengal. Savage winds had pummeled
the camp, reaching over a hundred miles per hour, kiting away one of the cook tents, knocking people
over bodily, and been followed by spats of snowfall that abraded any exposed skin like coarse
sandpaper.Then the morning had dawned as bright as their hopes. Sunlight glinted off the Khumbu glacier
and icefall. Snowcapped Everest floated above them, surrounded by its serene sister peaks, a wedding
party in white.
Lisa had snapped a hundred shots, catching the changing light in all its shifting beauty. She now
understood the local names for Everest: Chomolungma, or Goddess Mother of the World, in Chinese,
and Sagarmatha, the Goddess of the Sky, in Nepalese.
Floating among the clouds, the mountain was indeed a goddess of ice and cliff. And they had all come to
worship her, to prove themselves worthy to kiss the sky. And it hadn't come cheap. Sixty-five thousand
dollars a head. At least that included camping equipment, porters, Sherpas, and of course all the yaks
you could want. The lowing of a female yak echoed over the valley, one of the two dozen servicing their
climbing team. The blisters of their red and yellow tents decorated the camp. Five other camps shared
this rocky escarpment, all waiting for the storm gods to turn their back.
But according to their lead Sherpa, that would not be today.
"This is so much bull," declared the manager of a Boston sporting goods company. Dressed in the latest
down-duvet one-piece, he stood with his arms crossed beside his loaded pack. "Over six hundred
dollars a day to sit on our asses. They're bilking us. There's not a cloud in the damn sky!"
He spoke under his breath, as though trying to incite an uprising that he had no intention of leading
himself.
Lisa had seen the type before. Type A personality...j4 as in asshole. Upon hindsight, perhaps she
shouldn't have slept with him. She cringed at the memory. The rendezvous had been back in the States,
after an organizational meeting at the Hyatt in Seattle, after one too many whiskey sours. Boston Bob had
been just another port in a storm...not the first, probably not the last. But one thing was certain: this was
one port she would not be dropping anchor in again.
She suspected this reason more than any other for his continued belligerence.
She turned away, willing her younger brother the strength to quell the unrest. Josh was a mountaineer
with a decade of experience and had coordinated her inclusion in one of his escorted Everest ascents. He
led mountaineering trips around the world at least twice a year.
Josh Cummings held up a hand. Blond and lean like herself, he wore black jeans, tucked into the gaiters
of his Millet One Sport boots, and a gray expedition-weight thermal shirt.
He cleared his throat. "Taski has scaled Everest twelve times. He knows the mountain and its moods. If
he says the weather is too unpredictable to move forward, then we spend another day acclimating and
practicing skills. If anyone would like, I can also have a pair of guides lead a day trip to the
rhododendron forest in the lower Khumbu valley."
A hand rose from the group. "What about a day trip to the Everest View Hotel? We've been camping in
these damn tents for the past six days. I wouldn't mind a hot bath."
Murmurs of agreement met this request.