Книга только для ознакомления
The scooter's brain, off somewhere near ring ten, accepted those
coordinates and waited; I punched in my credit code and took position, crouched
against acceleration pads.
That idiot brain took an insultingly long time to decide that my credit was
good-then placed a web around me, tightened it, closed the capsule and whuff'!
bing! barn! we were on our way... then a fast float for three kilometers from
ring thirty to ring one-oh-five, then barn! bing! whuff! I was in Gretna Green.
The scooter opened.
For me such service is well worth the fare. But the Manager had been
warning us the past two years that the system does not pay its way; either use
it more or pay more per trip, or the hardware will be salvaged and the space
rented out. I hope they work out a solution; some people need this service.
(Yes, I know; Laffer theory will always give two solutions to such a problem, a
high and a low-except where the theory states that both solutions are the
same... and imaginary. Which might apply here. It may be that a scooter system
is too expensive for a space habitat at the present state of engineering art.)
It was an easy walk to Gwen's compartment: downstairs to seven-tenths
gravity, fifty meters "forward" to her number-I rang.
Her door answered, "This is the recorded voice of Gwen Novak. I've gone to
bed and am, I hope, happily asleep