За разломом орла

           "WhataboutSuzy?"Iaskedher. 

           "Suzy’sdead.Rayisdead.Theydiedintheirsurgetanks." 

           "How?Whythem,andnotme?" 

           "Somethingaboutparticlesofpaintblockingintakefilters.Notenoughtomakeadifferenceovershortdistances,butenoughtokillthemonthetripouthere." 

           Ithinksomepartofmehadalwayssuspected.Itfeltlesslikeshockthanbrutaldisappointment. 

           "ButSuzyseemedsoreal,"Isaid."Eventhewayshehaddoubtsabouthowlongshe’dbeeninthetank…eventhewaysherememberedpreviousattemptstowakeher." 

           Theglassmannequinapproachedourtable.Gretawavedhimaway. 

           "Imadeherconvincing,thewayshewouldhaveacted." 

           "Youmadeher?" 

           "You’renotreallyawake,Thom.You’rebeingfeddata.Thisentirestationisbeingsimulated." 

           Isippedmywine.Iexpectedittotastesuddenlythinandsynthetic,butitstilltastedlikeprettygoodwine. 

           "ThenI’mdeadaswell?" 

           "No.You’realive.Stillinyoursurgetank.ButIhaven’tbroughtyoutofullconsciousnessyet." 

           "Allright.Thetruththistime.Icantakeit.Howmuchisreal?Doesthestationexist?Arewereallyasfaroutasyousaid?" 

           "Yes,"shesaid."Thestationexists,justasIsaiditdoes.Itjustlooks…different.AnditisintheLargeMagellanicCloud,anditisorbitingabrowndwarfstar." 

           "Canyoushowmethestationasitis?" 

           "Icould.ButIdon’tthinkyou’rereadyforit.Ithinkyou’dfinditdifficulttoadjust." 

           Icouldn’thelplaughing.