"Connie Willis - Schwarzschild Radius" - читать интересную книгу автора (Willis Connie)

the Russians is pulling our signals in to it; the northern lights, which have been shifting uneasily on the
horizon, make a curtain the wireless signals cannot get through; the Russian opposition is not collapsing at
all. They are drawing us deeper and deeper into a trap.

I say, "I am going to try again. Perhaps the trouble has cleared up," and put the headphones on so I do
not have to listen to his new theory. I can hear nothing but a rumbling roar that sounds like the front.

I take out the folded piece of paper Dr. Funkenheld gave me and lay it on the wireless. He comes nearly
every night to see if I have gotten an answer to his message, and I take off the headphones and let him
listen to the static. I tell him that we cannot get through, but even though that is true, it is not the real
reason I have not sent the message. I am afraid of the commandant finding out. I am afraid of being sent
to the front.
I have compromised by writing a letter to the professor that I studied medicine with in Jena, but I have
not gotten an answer from him yet, and so I must go on pretending to the doctor.

"You don't have to do that," Muller says. He sits on the wireless, swinging his leg. He picks up the paper
with the symptoms on it and holds it to the flame of the Primus stove. I grab for it, but it is already burning
redly. "I have sent the message for you."

"I don't believe you. Nothing has been getting out."

"Didn't you notice the northern lights did not appear last night?"

I have not noticed. The ointment the doctor gave to me makes everything look red at night, and I do not
believe in Muller's theories. "Nothing is getting out now," I say, and hold the headphones out to him so he
can hear the static. He listens, still swinging his leg. "You will get us both in trouble. Why did you do it?"

"I was curious about it." If we are sent up to the front, his curiosity will kill us. He will take apart a land
mine to see how it works. "We cannot get in trouble for sending military messages. I said the
commandant was afraid it was a poisonous gas the Russians were using." He swings his leg and grins
because now 1 am the curious one.

"Well, did you get an answer?"

"Yes," he says maddeningly, and puts the headphones on. "It is not a poisonous gas."

I shrug as if I do not care whether I get an answer or not. I put on my cap and the muffler my mother
knitted for me and open the door. "I am going out to see if themail has come. Perhaps there will be a
letter there from my, professor."

"Nature of disease unknown," Muller shouts against the sudden force of he snow. "Possibly impetigo or
glandular disorder."

I grin back at him and say, "If there is a package from my mother, I will give you half of what is in it."

"Even if it is your gloves?"

"No, not if it is my gloves," I say, and go to find the doctor.

At the dressing station they tell me he has gone to see Schwarzschild and give me directions to the