За разломом орла

           "No,Raycandosomethingusefulaswell.Hecantakealookattheq-planes." 

           "Nothingwrongwiththoseplanes,"Raysaid. 

           ItookoffmyoldAshantiIndustrialbibcap,scratchedmybaldspotandturnedtothejibman. 

           "Right.Thenitwon’ttakeyoulongtocheckthemover,willit?" 

           "Whatever,Skip." 

           ThethingIlikedaboutRaywasthathealwaysknewwhenhe’dlostanargument. Hegatheredhiskitandwentouttocheckovertheplanes. Iwatchedhimclimbthejibladder,toolshangingfromhisbelt. Suzygotherfacemask,long,blackcoat,andleft,vanishingintothevapourhazeofthedocks,bootheelsclickingintothedistancelongaftershe’dpassedoutofsight. 

           IlefttheBlueGoose,walkingintheoppositedirectiontoSuzy. Overhead,thebulkcarriersslidinoneaftertheother. Youheardthemlongbeforeyousawthem.Mournful,cetaceanmoanscutdownthroughthepiss-yellowcloudsovertheport. Whentheyemerged,yousawdarkhullsscabbedandscarredbytheblockyextrusionsofsyntaxpatterning,jibsandq-planesretractedforlandingandundercarriagesclutchingdownliketalons. Thecarriersstoppedovertheirallocatedwellsandlowereddownonascreamofthrust. Dockinggantriesclosedaroundthemlikegraspingskeletalfingers. Cargo-handling’saursploddedoutoftheirholdingpens,someofthemautonomous,someofthemstillbeingriddenbytrainers. Therewasashockingsilenceastheenginescut,untilthenextcarrierbegantoapproachthroughtheclouds.