За разломом орла

           "Nicetoseesomeonewhoreallyenjoyshiswork,"Isaid. 

           IleftKoldingbeforemymoodworsenedtoomuch,makingmywaytoadifferentpartofthestation. 

           Gretahadsuggestedwemeetforbreakfastandcatchuponoldtimes. ShewastherewhenIarrived,sittingatatableinan"outdoor"terrace,underared-and-white-stripedcanopy,sippingorangejuice. Aboveuswasadomeseveralhundredmetreswide,projectingacloudlessholographicsky. Ithadthehard,enamelledblueofmidsummer. 

           "How’sthehotel?"sheaskedafterI’dorderedacoffeefromthewaiter. 

           "Notbad.Nooneseemsverykeenonconversation,though. Isitmeordoesthatplacehaveallthecheeryambienceofasinkingoceanliner?" 

           "It’sjustthisplace,"Gretasaid. "Everyonewhocomeshereispissedoffaboutit. Eithertheygottransferredhereandthey’repissedoffaboutthat,ortheyendedupherebyaroutingerrorandthey’repissedoffaboutthatinstead. Takeyourpick." 

           "Noone’shappy?" 

           "Onlytheoneswhoknowthey’regettingoutofheresoon." 

           "Wouldthatincludeyou?" 

           "No,"shesaid."I’mmoreorlessstuckhere. ButI’mOKaboutit. IguessI’mtheexceptionthatprovestherule." 

           Thewaiterswereglassmannequins,thekindthathadbeenfashionableinthecoreworldsabouttwentyyearsago. Oneofthemplacedacroissantinfrontofme,thenpouredscaldingblackcoffeeintomycup. 

           "Well,it’sgoodtoseeyou,"Isaid. 

           "Youtoo,Thom."