"Mary Rosenblum - Splinters of Glass" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rosenblum Mary)

“We’ll celebrate.” He pretended not to see her surprise and the questions
rising in her eyes, grabbed his board before those questions could turn to words.
And left.

Forever?

Don’t think that.

He hit Ah Zhen’s Commodities over on the far side of the Palace, his order
already packed into his sled, a blue bullet shape waiting in the hangar like a lost
dog...

Earth thoughts. Qai shook himself.

Her fault.

He paid Ah Zhen, numbers counting down in his head. If they hadn’t made
her stay for a fancy meal, if she’d been tough enough to say no and get out...

She’d be out in the corridors right now.

He hooked the sled to his board, slipped his foot into the shoe, and ac-tivated
the stabilizer field. He ramped up the power and felt the satisfying, bone-humming
vibration of power beneath his feet. He toed the board into motion, sliding easily
through the corridor, swinging out into one of the narrow naturals that veined the ice
all around the Ice Palace, lined with residence holes, cheap shops, sex cribs, and a
few pricey freelancers like Karina. Tourists didn’t go here, and only the natural glow
of the embed-ded moss lighted the irregular space. A hundred meters ahead, a main
drill cut spinward and crossed a big fault that ran three hundred klicks without
narrowing. A hundred good secondary faults crossed it. He could be well into the
ice in a matter of hours. And because his blood had adapted and was augmented by
the nano, he could go high, well above sea level where a tourist couldn’t breathe.
Out of reach.

Not that it would save him. Not if she had managed to trace him here. They
would be watching her. They knew where to look, now.

A shadowy figure emerged from a side corridor up ahead, one that led straight
from the Ice Palace.

No.

But he knew it was her. Toed the board and it jumped sideways as he leaned
into a sharp arc. But she anticipated his evasion and dashed straight into his path, her
face a pale oval turned up to his. He kicked the board hard, heard his voice yelling,
the sled skidding against the stabilizer’s failing grip, dragging his board slantwise.

He hit her.