Чужой
I
’Neversawsuchamessinyournaturallife.Betthey’restillworkingonthosemirrors.’
’Yeah.’Brettsmiledappreciatively.
Parkersatstill,lettingthelastvestigesofthememoryfadefromhismind.Theyleftapleasantlylasciviousresiduebehind.Absently,heflippedakeyswitchoverhisconsole.Agratifyinglygreenlightappearedaboveit,heldsteady.
’How’syourlight?’
’Green,’admittedBrett,afterrepeatingtheswitch-andcheckprocedurewithhisowninstrumentation.
’Minetoo.’Parkerstudiedthebubbleswithinthebeer.Severalhoursoutofhypersleepandhewasboredalready.Theengineroomranitselfwithquietefficiency,wastednotimemakinghimfeelextraneous.TherewasnoonetoarguewithexceptBrett,andyoucouldn’tworkupareallyinvigoratingdebatewithamanwhospokeinmonosyllablesandforwhomacompletesentenceconstitutedanexhaustingordeal.
’IstillthinkDallasisdeliberatelyignoringourcomplaints,’heventured.’Maybehecan’tdirectthatwereceivefullbonuses,butheisthecaptain.Ifhewantedto,hecouldputinarequest,oratleastadecentwordforthetwoofus.That’dbeabighelp.’Hestudiedareadout.Itdisplayednumbersmarchingoffplusorminustorightandleft.Thefluorescentredlinerunningdownitscentrerestedpreciselyonzero,splittingthedesiredindicationofneutralityneatlyintwo.
Parkerwouldhavecontinuedhisrambling,alternatingstoriesandcomplaintshadnotthebeeperabovethemabruptlycommenceditsmonotonouscall
’Christ
