"Walter Jon Williams - House of Shards" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Walter John)

CHAPTER 1
hen one star gobbles another, the universe may

W be forgiven if it pauses to take breath. Imagine
the sight: the smaller star a bright-haloed
emptiness, a nullity that draws into itself vast
ruddy flares of stellar matter until it consumes the very heart
of its companion. People might well stop and stare. Some
may even pay for the privilege. Thus Silverside Station, a
small asteroid held within view of the phenomenon by
mighty anchors of self-generated gravitational energy.
Small, hence exclusive. With exclusive rights to the view.
And about to have its grand opening
.

A private media globe hung inconspicuously over the control
console. Recording every word.
"Imagine it. Everyone on both sides of the border wanting to
have a ticket. Salivating for one. Offering anything to get
one. And the two of us, flying into Silverside on our own
private racing yacht."
A doubtful frown. "I'm not certain of this rule banning
the media. It seems extreme." A glance at the private globe. "I
can't record myself. That's a little absurd."
"The ban only applies to most of the media, Pearl. Some
will be there. Kyoko Asperson, for one."
"That," the Pearl said, her ears flattening, "will guar-
antee catastrophe."
2 | WALTER JON WILLIAMS HOUSE OF SHARDS | 3

Pearl Woman was tall and dark-haired. Her shoulders and star consuming another had been splayed across the ship's
arms bulged with transplanted muscle: in her youth she viewscreens. Neither paid it the slightest attention.
hunted daffles from proughback, and that takes upper-body
strength. Her hair shagged from her head like the mane of a The entry concourse was a long, low room, carpeted in dark
green. Darker tapestries flashed winks of silver thread from
lion. She wore a single pearl hanging from the left ear, an
the walls. The lighting was subdued, and a small orchestra
object balanced artfully by a duelling scar on her right
played brisk tunes in the corner. People in uniforms stood
cheek. Both were her trademarks within the Diadem, never
behind desks; robots carried bags in efficient silence. Dis-
duplicated by others of that exclusive organization, though
embarking passengers took their time strolling toward the
they were often imitated by her admirers across the Con-
desks. It was not done to seem in a hurry.
stellation.
"Pearl Woman. You are looking very dashing."
The enthusiasm of Pearl Woman's companion was un-
"Maijstral. It's been years."
dimmed. "Only three of the Diadem were invited. Three