Аннотация
S. M. Stirling
Dies the Fire
(Dies the Fire – 1)
One
Boise Municipal Airport, Idaho
Tuesday, March 17th, 1998
6:15 p.m., MST
Change minus one hour
Michael Havel pulled his battered four-by-four into the employees' parking lot, locked up and swung his just-incase gear out of the back, the strap of the pack over one shoulder and the gun case on the other. It was a raw early-spring Idaho afternoon, with the temperature in the low fifties; the light had a cool, bleakly clear quality, as if you could cut yourself on the blue of the sky.
He walked quickly across to the door marked "Steelhead Air Taxi" and opened it with three fingers and an elbow, whistling a Kevin Welch tune under his breath. Inside he set the gear down on a couple of chairs-the all-up weight was nearly eighty pounds-and opened his heavy sheepskin jacket, stuffing his knit cap into one pocket.
That left his black hair ruffled the way it always did, and he smooth...
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