Final Mission

Начало книги

CYNTHIA: (Distraught, pacing) Then what are we to do for them? They were here when we needed them. Are they to be surfeited with high honor, served like roasted duck at a billion banquets? Tell me, Roger, have we, the living, nothing but boredom to offer those who made this living possible?

ROGER: (Sullenly) They are old heroes, my dear. The world no longer has need for the heroic impulse. And what is wrong with roast duck?

CYNTHIA: (violently) Everything! (She crosses to the bed, sits, posture expressing deep dejection. When she speaks her voice is soft.) You see, Roger, I am incredibly old. I saw him, you know, that last time we needed them. Oh, what a desperate bold look about him! Space had put its mark of flame on his hard cheek.

ROGER: (Distantly) Him? Him, indeed! I hadn’t realized that we’d narrowed it to a specific and particular hero. I thought you were bleeding for the whole lot of them.

Читать дальше →