Читать книгу Orrery - Donna Kane - Страница 12

The Great Red Spot is in it for itself, is never homesick, fuels maelstrom with maelstrom, gas with gas. Like awareness, it answers nothing. It does not feel as old as it is. It waits for an opening, like a sliding puzzle’s missing tile, an absence that allows the other tiles to move, so storms grow calm, gas turns solid, and it becomes something else.