If humanity ever developed a hive mind, it wouldn’t be psychic brain links that welded it together. It’d be gossip and cocktail parties.
Our backup plan is everyone does this right the first time so we don’t need a backup plan. Understood?От факапа до факапа, ага :)
“The Nauvoo was intended as a generation ship,” she started.— Хэллоу, Раша!
“Fuck is a ‘no view’?” a Belter woman asked. The others chuckled.
— Хуево окрашено?! Готовь торпеды к бою! (с)
“Been brooding the whole time?” she asked.
“Some of it, yeah.”
“Did it help?”
“Right. Spring into action, then?”
He nodded at the amber door alarm. “Not yet.”
She glanced down. The override light flickered in her eyes like a candle flame. “Huh. All right. Brush teeth, pee, and spring into action?”
“That’ll work,” he agreed, and hauled himself up out of the bed.
“You forget the third option,” Houston said. “Being the ambassador of tyranny is a job with risks, Captain Holden. Very. Real. Risks.”
“Okay, so let’s do the math on that,” Holden said. “We’re here, and there are a dozen of you up there and four guards at the doors—”
“Six,” Bobbie said.
“Six guards at the doors,” Holden said, not missing a beat. “If you just look at the hundred or so meters around this building, we’re totally outnumbered and outgunned. But if you expand that to half a klick out, I have a gunship. My gunship has PDCs. It has a rail gun. It has twenty torpedoes. Hell, it’s got an Epstein drive that can put out a plume that would glass this whole settlement if we pointed it at the right angle.”
“Hey,” Holden said. “Do you know what Planck’s constant is?”
“Six point six two six plus change times ten to the negative thirty-fourth meters squared kilos per second?”
“Sure, why not,” Holden said, raising one finger. “But do you know why it’s that and not six point seven whatever the rest of it was?”
Naomi shook her head.
“Neither does anyone else. They still call it science. Most of what we know isn’t why things are what they are. We just figure out enough about how they work that we can predict the next thing that’s going to happen.
В качестве последней цитаты (добил наконец-то все существующие книги) — опять Крисси:
“… a proposal about the architecture by which we try to unfuck ourselves. It’s preliminary, but we have to start somewhere.”
Слово unfuck мне уже попадалось в URLe какого-то интернет магазина. Этот URL вел на товар из разряда то ли барахолки, то ли просто каталога, который нужно было рассортировать (как он вообще во фронт-энд пролез?) Тогда я все голову ломал, как же это можно перевести. Теперь дошло.
И снова на сцене моя любимица (подозреваю, что не только моя):
“The security group from Mars is finishing their meal,” Said answered without missing a beat. “They’ll be in the conference hall in half an hour. Admiral Souther will be there with you if you need him.”
“Always good to have a penis in uniform in the room,” Avasarala said sourly. “God knows they might not take me seriously otherwise.”
Avasarala put out her hands, palms facing each other about a meter apart. “I’ve got a report on you this thick. I know every pimple you’ve popped since your voice broke. Everything. Praiseworthy, shameful, indifferent. Everything. I have violated your privacy in ways you can’t imagine.”
He’d come to an age when sex was less about who he fell into bed with and more about who he woke up next to...Свободные астерские нравы, что тут еще сказать...
Strength by itself is just bullying, capitulation by itself is an invitation to get fucked; only mixed strategies survive.Политика. Вся ее сучность в этих словах.
“I’m not the boss of anything, but seems to me like having Babs here and not putting her in the front line? You use a welding rig to weld things. You use a gun to shoot things. You use a Bobbie Draper to fuck a bunch of bad guys permanently up.”Ради разнообразия — отжигает Амос.
“He took in a pirated ship. From a pirate. And then thanked her for his cut of the fucking booty and waved as she burned away. And you, the Butcher of Anderson Station, grand Whatever-the-Fuck of the OPA? You sat there with your cock in your hand and let him do it. I mean, I understand Holden is Holden, but I let you put your hands on Ceres because I thought you at least were a fucking grown-up.”Хотел бы я сказать: "Крисси, слышало бы тебя начальство...", ну да ладно.
Whoever screws up last loses. Whoever screws up second to last wins. That’s what war is.
“How long before we can start shooting back?”Сразу видно профи за работой.
“Fast-movers will be in effective PDC range in sixty-eight minutes,” she said. “Do we have any response from Ceres? Because if they could throw a few spare long-range torpedoes at these sonsofbitches, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings.”
Fred Johnson’s voice answered, calm and businesslike. “I’m working on that now.”
“Anyway, the worst-case scenario is we all get killed and he gets to feel smart for not having his people on board when we did it. Win-win for him.”...
When Bobbie spoke, Holden could hear the smile in it, despite the words. “No one dies while standing watch without permission from the commanding officer.”
“You say so, Babs,” Amos replied.
“I want to make something clear. If—if—you take possession of that colony ship, under no circumstances does it come within three thousand klicks of my dock. If there are people who need medical assistance on board, they stay on board and we’ll send help out to them. Nothing comes off that ship until it’s been examined, scanned, reloaded, disinfected, and sprinkled with holy water by whatever flavor of priest I can put my hands on. I’m not running Troy here.”
“Good morning, Madam Secretary,” he said....
“Cut the bullshit. What fresh hell are we facing today?”
"... And I understand you’ve got a few after-market add-ons—"Крисси все не унимается. Впрочем, ее можно понять.
"Keel-mounted rail gun," Alex said with a grin.
"—that scream of overcompensating for tiny, tiny penises, but might prove useful."
Different menus detailed the services of the bar: food, drink, pharmaceutical, sex... To Alex’s right, Amos sat grinning like a vaguely ominous Buddha with Clarissa Mao, Sun-yi Steinberg, and a shirtless young man who Alex suspected had been ordered from a menu.Интересно, кто ж его заказал. Не Алекс, не Амос. Клариссе несколько не до того...
"If you’re in a relationship with someone above you or below you in the chain of command, it’s not a joke. Dishonorable discharge, loss of benefits, maybe jail time."То есть спать можно, но только с равными. Учтем...
"Well, I’m thinking I may be in a situation here pretty soon where everybody needs to be able to agree to whatever they’re agreeing to."Пить надо меньше. Надо меньше пить. (с)
Алекс и Холден после сеанса связи с Авасаралой:
“You notice how she didn’t say anything obscene or offensive?” Holden said.Тут они правы, ничего хорошего.
“Did notice that.”
Holden took a deep breath. “That can’t be good.”
“Thank you for flying with us,” a pleasantly nondescript face said from the video screen next to the exit. The voice was carefully crafted to have no specific regional dialect or obvious gender markers. “We hope to see you again soon.”Амос всегда таков. Честно и прямо, без задних мыслей.
“Go fuck yourself,” Amos said to the screen with a smile.
“Thank you, sir,” the face replied, actually seeming to look him in the eye. “TransWorld Interplanetary takes your comments and suggestions seriously.”
One thing about space: it might be a big radiation-filled vacuum that’d kill you in a heartbeat if you weren’t paying attention, but at least it never had turbulence.
If Amos has become my personal touchstone for wisdom, I’m fucked, she thought, and laughed.Это уже Наоми рефлексирует. Что ж, тут она права на все сто.
The bunker under the house had supplies enough to last for a year or two: survival gear, weapons, ammunition, high-calorie rations, a stack of surprisingly boring pornography, and a collection of beautiful hand-carved chess sets.А и правда, чего еще желать-то?
"With the passing of the secretary-general and disarray if the assembly, Chrisjen Avasarala is the de facto legitimate government of Earth. And she has offered to... I believe the phrase was 'massage my balls with a paint scraper' if anything happened to you."И немного далее по тексту:
“Bobbie, I need any data you have about the missing Martian ships. I know, you’re going to tell me how you’ve already given me everything, and of course I trust and believe all that you say, blah blah fucking blah. But I need it. Now."Почему? Почему в книге столь мало Авасаралы? Ей нужно больше экранного времени, намного больше! :)
“Plan’s kind of a strong word for it,” he said. “I was just grabbing whatever I could.”Как поступает Амос, если нужно что-то планировать.