"Scott Westerfeld - Evolution's Darling" - читать интересную книгу автора (Westerfeld Scott)EVOLUTION'S DARLING
by SCOTT WESTERFELD Copyright 1999 ISBN 1-56858-149-1 If we can find out those measures, whereby a rational creature . . . may and ought to govern his opinions and actions, we need not be troubled that some other things escape our knowledge. —John Locke To San Miguel, and those who came. Prologue THE MOVEMENTS OF HER EYES It started on that frozen world, among the stone figures in their almost suspended animation. Through her eyes, the irises two salmon moons under a luminous white brow, like fissures in the world of rules, of logic. The starship's mind watched through the prism of their wonder, and began to make its change. She peered at the statue for a solid, unblinking minute. Protesting tears and a tic tugged at one eye, taking up the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. She kept watching. "Ha!" she finally proclaimed. "I saw it move." "Where?" asked a voice in her head, unconvinced. Rathere rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, mouth open, awestruck by the shooting red stars behind her eyelids. Her blinks made up now for the lost minutes, and she squinted at the dusty town square. "His foot," she announced, "it moved. But maybe . . . only a centimeter." The voice made an intimate sound, a soft sigh beside Rathere's ear that did not quite reject her claim. "Maybe just a millimeter," Rathere offered. A touch of unsure emphasis hovered about the last word; she wasn't used to tiny units of measurement, though from her father's work she understood light-years and metaparsecs well enough. "In three minutes? Perhaps a micrometer," the voice in her head suggested. Rathere rolled the word around in her mouth. In response to her questioning expression, software was invoked, as effortless as reflex. Images appeared upon the rough stones of the square: a meter-stick, a hundredth of its length glowing bright red, a detail box showing that hundredth with a hundredth of its length flashing, yet another detail box . . . completing the six orders of magnitude between meter and micrometer. Next to the final detail box a cross-section of human hair floated for scale, as bloated and gnarled as some blackly diseased tree. "That small?" she whispered. A slight intake of breath, a softening of her eyes' focus, a measurable quantity of adrenalin in her bloodstream were all |
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