Neal Asher - Gridlinked
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- Название:Gridlinked
- Автор:
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- Год:2001
- ISBN:нет данных
- Рейтинг книги:3 / 5. Голосов: 1
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Gridlinked: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация
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Politics (An excerpt):Everybody knows that we are living in a meritocracy and that those in charge are not human. Everybody knows that AIs are running the show. Who would trust a human planetary governor? Who would trust humans with controlling the vast spread of human migration and trade? Certainly not other humans. As that sublime AI, which is referred to as 'Earth Central', once put it, 'Humans: fast machines that serve the purpose of slow genes.' Most right-thinking people would agree that we are not to be trusted with our own destiny and are glad things are the way they are. Our history should be a salutary lesson held at the forefronts of our minds when we consider these matters. Nowadays you do not see such bloody resolution to events as was seen in the past. I mean, you don't see the machines killing each other, do you?
From How It Is by Gordon
The magnetic rails lifted the shuttle from the bay floor, just like AG.
'That's it,' said Tull over the intercom. 'Now you just ease it straight out. You'll be going out opposite to the station's rotation, so you should have no problem. Obviously, once you're out, you'll fall away at one-quarter G.'
'In what direction?'
'Depends when you get through the door. I'd suggest you do this next time Viridian comes into view.'
Great, real technical.
Jarvellis kept her eyes on the door and her hand on the slide control as she waited. Already space beyond the door was taking on a blue-green haze. Any time now, then.
When the arc of the planet slowly climbed into view, she quickly pushed the control forward. She did not really fancy hurtling directly towards the planet at one-quarter G while still trying to figure out how to operate the controls of this thing. The shuttle slowly accelerated for the door, and more and more of the planet was revealed. As it went out into space, it immediately dropped and she rose against her seat straps. A glance up showed her the station now retreating with dismaying rapidity. She moved the control column and was rewarded with a cacophonous creaking as the ion engines moved in their housings.
'All or nothing,' she said, and pressed a button marked 'Grids'. Nothing happened. There was no flare, no surge of power. She leant forward and round, so as to see the ion engines. There was a glow underneath them no more vigorous than that from a faulty toaster. Jarvellis studied the other buttons available. 'Gas feed' seemed the most likely, so she pressed it. A pump started up somewhere behind her, and there was a stutt- ering roar to her right. Her view of Viridian tilted, kept on tilting. The roar started to her left, but the tilt did not correct and now the horizon was dropping away. She eased the column over, corrected the tilt. How the hell did she ease off on the power, though? It took her some minutes of frantic searching before she realized her foot was flat down on a floor pedal.
'This is Viridian control calling Nix shuttle. Answer, please.'
Jarvellis ignored the radio and concentrated on flying the shuttle. She could not figure out how to get back towards the planet. The settings of the engines seemed to be designed for re-entry only. Think! It occurred to her then that she was thinking like someone who had lived with gravity for too long. She was thinking in terms of up and down. She moved the full column over and nipped the shuttle so that Viridian was now directly above her, and then applied some power.
'This is Viridian control calling Nix shuttle. Answer, please.'
There was the airspeed indicator, and there was an altimeter giving a very strange reading. Slowly Jarvellis began to understand what each of the meters and small screens signified. She had got the shuttle in a stable orbit when a completely different voice spoke from the radio.
'This is Viridian. Will the lunatic flying that antique please respond. I have no objection to you killing yourself, but you are now entering occupied airspace.'
Shit, it was the runcible AI. Jarvellis searched for a switch to turn off the radio. She found none. What she did find was a screen that folded out from the old console. The screen flickered on to give her the same view as she had out through the front screen. She pressed a button and that view flicked to one that was identified - in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen - as infrared. She clicked along the buttons and called up all sorts of interesting views, but none of them would help to prevent her spreading herself across the surface of the planet if she didn't figure out how to land this thing.
They put the carrier down in a valley in the foothills of the cave-riddled Thuriot mountains. These mountains were not like any mountains he had imagined; they were the slabbed and laminated masses he had seen from the runcible facility. Perhaps it was the case that on a heavier-gravity planet like Earth such strange formations could not exist. He sited the camp a short distance from where the blue oaks and chequer trees of the Magadar forest petered out, on level ground thick with Arctic lichens and the chewed sprouts of new trees.
'If they come on foot, they'll come from the forest,' Cormac told Thorn. 'Sergeant, I want someone at the turret gun at all times. Organize a shift if necessary. I want you in there at the command console, co-ordinating all scan input. We'll keep channels open so you can relay everything you get.'
'So too.'
'Your gunner must take out anything airborne. Anything that even hints at being a surveillance drone, I want hit. Obviously if we get any AGCs coming in without ID, I want them hit as well. Go there now. I'll relay any further orders.'
As the sergeant moved on, Thorn said, 'The other lot came in on foot. They didn't risk coming in airborne. I doubt this Pelter chap will, either.'
'I don't believe in taking chances. Now, there are two autoguns in the carrier. Set them up in the trees and put the men either side. Between them and the trees I want weaknesses.'
'Is that a good idea?'
'We'll have Aiden and Cento in there as spotters. Anything comes through, and we'll hit it on this open ground.'
'Not much cover for us here,' said Thorn, looking speculatively at the single tilted slab behind the carrier.
'Wrong, we dig in.'
'Ah…'
Cormac nodded to the slab and the land beyond it. 'I want holes dug over there as well, but I don't want them occupied. I just want them to look like they are. You I want at that slab with your proton gun.' Thorn nodded to this and Cormac went on. 'When it's all set up, I want everyone to get some rest before nightfall.'
'And if there's no attack? We do have another mission.'
'The Maker can wait. We'll stay here for days if necessary. As I said, I want Pelter off my back.'
It took the rest of the morning for the defences to be set and foxholes to be dug. The ground was very stony, and a metre down was a layer of permafrost. They had an electric shear that could slice through almost anything, and EM blasts from a pulse rifle soon melted the permafrost, but in the end the men had to dig the holes with shovels. It was tiring work for men unused to it, and would perhaps not have been finished until nightfall had not Cento and Aiden lent a hand. The sergeant and his men rested in their tents afterwards, perhaps trying to remember if the ES recruiting officer had said anything about having to dig holes. Aiden and Cento moved into the trees.
Night descended and now there was nothing to do but wait. Cormac surveyed what he had wrought, then headed for the carrier.
As he reached it, Cormac spotted Thorn ferrying Stanton back inside. Even boosted men must empty their bladders sometime. He followed them inside and watched while Thorn tied the prisoner back in place. Then he sat on the bunk opposite, as Thorn nodded to him and left them, his proton gun tucked under one arm. Cormac looked round to see the sergeant was up near the front studying a screen flipped up from the control console. Mika he could hear moving about in the rear section somewhere.
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