За разломом орла

           Infactsometimesthat’sexactlywhatIdo.Justmeandabottleofwine." 

           "Idon’tblameyou." 

           Insteadoftheholographicblue,thedomewasnowfullofstars. ItwaslikenoviewI’deverseenfromanotherstationorship. Therewerefuriousblue-whitestarsembeddedinwhatlookedlikesheetsofvelvet. Therewerehardgoldgemsandsoftredsmears,likefingersmearsinpastel. Therewerestreamsandcurrentsoffainterstars,likeamyriadneonfishcaughtinasnapshotoffrozenmotion. Therewerevastbillowingbackdropsofredandgreencloud,veinedandflawedbyfilamentsofcoolblack. Therewerebluffsandpromontoriesofochredust,sorichinthree-dimensionalstructurethattheyresembledanexuberantimpastoofoilcolours;contourslight-yearsthicklaidonwithatrowel. Redorpinkstarsburnedthroughthedustlikelanterns. Orphanedworldswerecaughteruptingfromthetowers,littlesperm-likeshapestrailingvisceraofdust. HereandthereIsawthetinyeyelikeknotsofbirthingsolarsystems.Therewerepulsars,flashingonandofflikenavigationbeacons,theirdifferingrhythmsseemingtosetastatelytempofortheentirescene,likeadeathlyslowwaltz. Thereseemedtoomuchdetailforoneview,anoverwhelmingabundanceofrichness,andyetnomatterwhichdirectionIlooked,therewasyetmoretosee, asifthedomesensedmyattentionandconcentrateditseffortsonthespotwheremygazewasdirected.