Ravna waved a hand at the objections. Don't stop me, I'm on a roll. "That's not the point. We are in communication with them. We have a good general library on board. Original inventors don't know where they're going; they're groping in the dark. Even the archaeologist/engineers of Nyjora had to reinvent much. But we know everything about making airplanes and such; we know hundreds of ways of going at it." Now faced with necessity, Ravna was suddenly sure they could do it. "We can study all the development paths,
复件 (88) air max2, eliminate the dead ends. Even more, we can find the quickest way to go from medieval to specific inventions, things that can beat whatever barbarians are attacking Jefri's friends." Ravna's speech tumbled to a stop. She stared, grinning, first at Greenstalk and then at Blueshell. But a silent Skroderider is one of the universe's more impassive audiences. It was hard even to tell if they were looking at her. After a moment Greenstalk said, "Yes, I see. And rediscovery being so common in the Slow Zone,
复件 (24) air max, most of this may already be worked out in the ship's library." That's when it happened: Pham turned from the window. He looked across the deck at Ravna and the Riders. For the first time since Relay, he spoke. Even more, the words weren't nonsense, though it took her a moment to understand. "Guns and radios," he said. "Ah ... yes." She looked back at him. Think of something to make him say more. "Why those in particular?" Pham Nuwen shrugged. "It worked on Canberra." Then damn Blueshell started talking, something about doing a library search. Pham stared at them for moment, his face expressionless. He turned back to watch the stars, and the moment was lost. .Delete this paragraph to shift page flush CHAPTER 22 "Pham?" He heard Ravna's voice just behind him. She had stayed on the bridge after the Riders left,
复件 (7) 复件 air max2, departing on whatever meaningless preparations their meeting had ordained. He didn't reply,
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Monster Beats Tour, and after a moment she drifted around and blocked his view of the stars. Almost automatically, he found himself focussing on her face. "Thank you for talking to us.... We need you more than ever." He could still see lots of stars. They were all around her, slowly moving. Ravna cocked her head, the way she did when she meant friendly puzzlement. "We can help...." He didn't answer. What had make him speak just now? Then: "You can't help the dead," he said, vaguely surprised at his own speaking. Like eye focussing, the speech must be a reflex. "You're not dead. You're as alive as I am." Then words tumbled from him; more than in all the days since Relay. "True. The illusion of self-awareness. Happy automatons, running on trivial programs. I'll bet you never guess. From the inside, how can you? From the outside, from Old One's view --" He looked away from her, dizzy with a doubled vision. Ravna drifted closer till her face was just centimeters from his. She floated free, except for one foot tucked into the floor. "Dear Pham, you are wrong. You've been at the Bottom,
mbt tunisha, and at the Top, but never in between. ... 'The illusion of self-awareness'? That's a commonplace of any practical philosophy in the Beyond. It has some beautiful consequences, and some scary ones. All you know are the scary ones. Think: the illusion must apply just as surely to the Powers." "No. He could make devices like you and I." "Being dead is a choice, Pham." She reached out to pass her hand down his shoulder and arm. He had a typical 0-gee change of perspective; "down" seemed to rotate sideways, and he was looking up at her. Suddenly he was aware of his splotchy beard, his tangled hair floating all about.