"Charles Stross - Ancient Of Days" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stross Charles)

the humans reached their current dangerous state of power."
She looked round at those who were gathered to her, then re-focussed on Kristoph. "I
must start by asking you a leading question, in order to judge how much you need to know at
this stage. Tell me, how much do you know about genetics? And what – in particular – do you
know about the so-called 'Human Genome Project'?"
 ***

A welcoming house: a hot bath: a lover's arms. After the raid Sue went home and
tried to lose herself in the eternal present, far away from the grim shadows that Kristoph had
raised by his passage. But there were a number of obstacles; Eric, for one thing, couldn't let
things be, and for another thing she couldn't help wondering just what it was that Kristoph had
been sent to look for.
Eric entered the bathroom as she was rinsing conditioner out of her hair. He sat down
on the closed lid of the lavatory and carefully shut his book before he turned to face her.
"What is it?" asked Sue, switching off the shower attachment. Unlike Eric, she didn't read
many books when she was home; only people.
He looked at her and smiled. "Just wondering what it was all about this evening. Was
it really Family business?"
It was characteristic of Eric, an ill-timed curiosity that pried into hidden corners just
when she most wanted to leave them alone. She'd become used to it in the eight months
they'd lived together, and expected it to drive them apart over the next few years. This
relationship was an anomaly, after all; neither of them were mature by the standards of their
people, who were traditionally promiscuous, and their intimacy was more a consequence of
their isolation than of any convergence between them. "No," she said, and then, on second
thoughts: "I'm not sure. The man they sent – he said he was called Kristoph, but I don't
believe him. He's some kind of spook, can pick locks and knows how to burgle an office and
make it look like someone else's fault. He was hunting for something in the HGP contract
notes but I think he didn't know quite what he'd been sent to get." She sank back in the bath
and shivered, then reached out to run some more hot water into the tub. "He was really
creepy, you know? And the stuff he was spouting –"
Eric put his book down on the window ledge, carefully avoiding the patch of
condensation that trickled down one corner. He always seemed to be carrying a book around
the house with him, but never seemed to read from it; she had speculated whimsically that he
made himself invisible when he was reading, as a defence against being disturbed. "Where
was this Kristoph from? Who sent him?" He leaned forward and picked up the conditioner
bottle and began turning it in his hands, inspecting it as if he expected t o discover a hidden
message embedded in its soft pink plastic.
"I don't know who sent him, but I expect it was some hard-line oldster shit. He kept
referring to the dark: you should have heard him going on! 'Take care, sorceress, lest they
send for the witch-finder general and burn thee at the stake!'" Her voice deepened an octave
and her cheeks sagged into nascent jowls as she delivered the injunction to a wisp of steam
that hovered over the shower fitting. "They're still living in the prehistoric past, Eric, not the
new age crap the humans keep spouting on a bout but the real thing –" she yanked the plug
out angrily.
Eric watched in silence as she sat up and let the water drain around her. She saw
him eyeing her breasts as they sagged slightly, no longer buoyed up by the fluid around her.
"Any thoughts on the matter?" she asked, trying to conceal her anxiety. "Come on, don't just
sit there!"
Eric passed her a towel. "Thanks," she said, standing up and wrapping it around
herself. The air on her skin felt cold even though the room was half-filled with steam.