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Corporation 40
Portholes on the "Atreyu" was not provided at all. On the one hand, what are you going to look overboard, the plutoids beyond the orbit of Sedna here, at a distance of fifty ticks from Sol, gave a maximum of the third magnitude, and in order to see them with the naked eye against the backdrop of starlight, you would first have to sit locked up for half an hour with the attendant turned off lighting. On the other hand, the regular fifteen revolutions per hour would give such a fierce attack of vertigo when looking outside that an idle navigator who decided to stare outward would quickly get sick of green elephants.And who needs these windows. Cylindrical cabin "Atreyu", according to the creators' plan, was equipped in a circle with virtreals of the highest detail, which, without unnecessary urges to visit the latrine out of turn, provided the navigator with both an excellent overview and augmented reality, and did not blind the eyes of Sol's annoying lantern, which, although it looked
Corporation 41
Snorting under his breath, Stegenga made sure that the eclipse recording was securely copied to the onboard infoguard's personal repository for further packet transmission to Matushka, and only then did he hear some screams behind the bulkhead. It seems that it was Van der Boer yelling, while in the second voice, probably, Toptun howled this unpretentious aria, who else would be there.Here are the restless ones.Having hastily handed over the watch to the "iron woodcutter", Stegenga jumped off the duty navigator's lodgement and rushed to the membrane of the main hatch with wide jumps - to separate.The fight was already in full swing. Van der Boer, a short stature, jumped around Toptun, towering over him like a stone cliff, while both of them yelled in chorus "you have no right" and "I order you." All this was very exciting and even carried some traces of meaningfulness - judging by the aiming of his jumps, Van der Boer had as his goal to grab something from Toptun's hands, which he
Corporation 42
It snowed for the second ten sols.If on a godforsaken planetoid that does not even have the rudiments of an atmosphere, there can be normal precipitation in general. The five-hundred-yard blades of a scoop at the bottom of the Echo Quarry, fifty miles to the northeast, did not slow down around the clock, raising clouds of icy dust to the zenith, which glittered like a crown ring in the sunlight at dawn, spreading around the area in a white shroud and finally settling at under your feet.Wilkes cleared his throat automatically. To old men like him, the white powder on the reinforced boots was like a different story, not quite as colorful and not quite as festive looking.Three nuclear bombs laid by the Tanno brothers in old workings near the Ruben Grottoes. Idiots did not listen to exhortations. Our land and the whole story.The land mines gasped so that they brought to the surface from one and a half megatons of stone chips, so inopportunely fused into the ice just at the very epicen
Corporation 43
Here is the character. It's always been that way for as long as Wilkes can remember it. When a cryoclastic flow almost flattened Fusco in 1965, Jen had to be dragged out of the cab of the excavator by almost force. Her eyes are drowsy, her head dangles like a doll's, her hands are shaking from fatigue, but all the same. Every time I sent her to eat and sleep in the dome, I had to persuade her. Not a man, flint.Wilkes obediently slowed down, watching the beacon approach. Look, hurry up.Through the halo of snow, one could barely make out how a gray shadow galloped over the crests of faults, throwing fountains of snow drifts with its drive wheels.“Be careful, Jen, where you fly like that, you will kill yourself.”The rover skidded the last hundred yards, spraying Wilks' shell with a stream of flowing ice sand so that the visor had to be wiped down.But go and she herself, you can’t see her face, of course, but in terms of the plasticity of movements - you can’t confuse it with anyone.
Corporation 44
The Bergelmir again shook with an impact, only a fan of tracers across the stern screens flashed. The unwritten rule of fire clashes in the Belt was the use of striking elements made of hardened ice - they would warm up for a couple of years in the cold local sun and finally evaporate into a vacuum. Anything is better than a civilian ore carrier getting an olive from depleted uranium in the frontal screen on a collision course. Double orbital is no joke to you, no armoplast of a strong hull can do it, with such kinetics, sprays fly in all directions, just have time to dodge. But today, you see, all sorts of rules have gone sideways.The alarm sounded at the very limit of audibility - the ears did not have time to return to normal after the pressure surge. Moving her jaw, Tsagaanbat, out of habit, listened to the answering crunch. The reverse block is the main trouble of any tracer. You can’t sit much in a hard shell, and soft cabin suits didn’t have time to equalize the pressure. Well
Corporation 45
Tsagaanbat began to mechanically look around in search of improvised means. Where can I get a banal jack a couple of ticks from the nearest garage?And most importantly, what was Hesperus thinking to himself when he gave the introduction? Idiot piece.Tsagaanbat was about to return to the capsule for a tool, when the battered servos started working. Phew, well, at least something went according to plan today!"Is it really that hard not to be late?"Shivikas. Commander, his mother so, Thomas Shivikas himself. This irritated tone of Tsagaanbat would not be confused with anything. Now it is clear why the stove did not open. Tsagaanbat was ahead."And you don't get sick."Well, you have to get into it. Just let Hesperus look in the eyes, she'll tell him everything!"What are you missing here, Commander?""I have the same question for you, Colonel."Judging by how awkwardly the former commander of the Frigg wriggled his boots, he himself was surprised by the meeting. Well, nice, if this i
Corporation 46
Today she was a strict mistress. Not according to plan, just according to the mood, so that the jetems do not relax. Sitting like this with a straight back on a sofa, half-turning, how are you there, do you watch, not looking up, do you crave her attention?They follow and crave what is there.She even like that, out of the corner of her eye, felt the growing tension on the other side of the virtreal. It was her talent, her little secret. Who cares how many slobbering mouths are now open at her thousands of kilometers away, all the other divas, for greater involvement, brought half a dozen omm to their studio to breathe in the back and portray subservience, enough for the mood. But all this palliative entourage was out of place for her - she always performed alone. And still I felt every drop of sweat and every bitten nail of the Jetems.Perhaps, another diva wouldn’t even need such a talent, what’s the point of why they need this knowledge, what exactly those who pay their bills see
Corporation 47
In attempts to explain to the stupid piece of iron, ten minutes passed. So, look, officer, she will now slowly (very slowly!) lower her left hand and take out an ID card from the pocket of her tights. No, the godless augmentation and other central pumps are not the imam. That's right, sectarian. Licensed. Everything is there, on the chip. Just don't shoot.And after all, he knows her as flaky, but all the same scoffs.And most importantly, the last anti-vaxxer south of Luavul was seen maybe a hundred years ago, even before the last pandemic of the green fungus, I also found something to hesitate.When the quacking and hooting flasher nevertheless drove off to the next threshold, to pester others, the good mood had already gone.She gave a short wave to the old fart with the binoculars in the opposite window - let him finally admire her nipples swaying under the transparent fabric of the raincoat - and slapped down the ruet, habitually springing and bouncing on the barely coping with p