"Charles Stross - Duat" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stross Charles)

"A war," Oshi frowned. "Tell me about it." Her stomach churned uncomfortably.

"There are monsters in the Dreamtime. Not human; not Superbright either. We can trade
with Superbrights, did you know that? At least, we did. But then the others came and ...
purged ... them. By the time we realized that something was loose in the Dreamtime
within the system it was too late: we'd lost three processor moons and a large proportion
of our industrial infrastructure. War broke out, but our strategic systems defected halfway
through. We barely had time to put together a pathfinder group and beam out; the rest
were due to follow, as many as could make it to the kluged uploader sites for evacuation.
Then we found ourselves waking up here. First contact was forty-two years ago, but most
of us were stored in download buffers while He decided what to do with us; the damned
gatecoder can only handle six bodies at a time. I've been here eight years now, and He said
the buffers were empty. So where did you come from?"

She didn't sound very interested, but something in her gaze made Oshi hesitate for a


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2: In the Duat

moment before replying. "A place called New Salazar."

Suddenly she had Raisa's complete attention. "Tell me about it!"

Oshi looked at her and saw her naked longing. It made her want to steal the truth and re-
work it into something she could present, that Raisa would accept. "A nice planet," she
said: "vast forests and blue mountains, oceans that cover almost half its surface. Cities of
marble and glass, blended in with the landscape. Civilized and rich and peaceful."

"You're sure none of the pathfinders made it through to your system's gatecoder?" Raisa
demanded eagerly. "We broadcast to several systems in this sector --"

"No. I'm quite sure." Oshi shuddered, hoping it was true. The idea opened horrifying
vistas, a billion refugees beaming into Year Zero Man's tender mercies.

Raisa turned away. "Shit. If we'd modulated our transmission through a degree or two ..."
her shoulders shook. Oshi looked away, spiked by a sudden rush of self-disgust. "Instead,
we're here."

"What's wrong with that?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Raisa said from the doorway. Her voice was shaky. "Even
if your wisdom and upload feed isn't working. Oh, I should add: there's no Dreamtime
backup here. Death is permanent, as far as we can tell. Another irony: try to avoid it. See
you tomorrow."

"And you," Oshi murmured, scraping the rim of her bowl. She watched Raisa close the
door -- which grated on the stone floor -- and listened to the retreating footsteps with a
sense of deja vu. "Damn." Something about Raisa made her feel wistful, brought back
memories. She looked down into the bowl, trying to make sense of her mixed feelings.