"Jack Dann - Blind Shemmy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dann Jack)

given time to practice and become acquainted.
The boy's member was slightly engorged, and Pfeiffer now became frightened. He suddenly thought of
his mother and the obligatory hook-in service at her funeral. His skin crawled as he remembered
her last filthy thoughts ....
The furry boy led Joan and Pfeiffer into the game room, which smelled of oiled wood, spices,
traditional tobacco, and perfume. There were no holos or decoration on the walls. Everything, with
the exception of the felt top of the gaming table, cards, thick natural carpet, computer consoles,
and cowls, was made of precious woods: oak, elm, cedar, teak, walnut, mahogany, redwood, ebony.
The long, half-oval gaming table, which met the sliding partition wall, was made of satinwood, as
were the two delicate, but uncomfortable, high-backed chairs placed side by side. On the table
before each chair was a psyconductor cowl, each one sheathed in a light, silvery mask.


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"We call them poker-faces," the boy said to Pfeiffer, as he placed the cowl over Joan's head. He
explained how the psyconductor mechanism worked, then asked Pfeiffer if he wished him to stay.
"Why should I want you to stay?" Pfeiffer asked, but the sexual tension between them was
unmistakable.
"I'm adept at games of chance. I can redirect your thoughts-without a psyconductor." He looked at
Joan and smiled.
"Put the mechanism on my head and then please leave us," Pfeiffer said.
"Do you wish me to return when you're finished?"
"If you wish," Pfeiffer replied stiffly, and Joan watched his discomfort. Without saying a word,
she had won a small victory.
The boy lowered the cowl over Pfeiffer's head, made some unnecessary adjustments, and left
reluctantly.
"I'm not at all sure that I want to do this," Pfeiffer mumbled, faltering.
"Well," Joan said, "we can easily call off the game. Our first connection is just practice-"
"I don't mean the game. I mean the psyconnection."
Joan remained silent. Dammit, she told herself. I should have looked away when Pfeiffer's furry
pet made a pass at him.
"I was crazy to agree to such a thing in the first place."
"Shall I leave?" Joan asked. "It was you who insisted that I come along, remember?" She stood up,
but did not judge the distance of the cowl/console connections accurately, and the cowl was pulled
forward, bending the silver mask.
"I think you're as nervous as I am," Pfeiffer said appeasingly. .
"Make the connection, right now. Or let's get out of
here." Joan was suddenly angry and frustrated. Do it, she thought to herself, and for once she was
not passive. Certainly not passive. Damn him and his furry boy! She snapped the wooden toggle
switch, activating both psyconductors, and was thrust into vertiginous light. It surrounded her,
as if she could see in all directions at once. But she was simply seeing through Pfeiffer's eyes.
Seeing herself, small, even in his eyes, small.
After the initial shock, she realized that the light was not brilliant; on the contrary, it was
soft and diffused.
But this was no connection at all: Pfeiffer was trying to close his mind to her. He appeared
before her as a smooth, perfect, huge, sphere. It slowly rotated, a grim, gray planet, closed to
her, forever closed ....
Are you happy now? asked Pfeiffer, as if from somewhere deep inside the sphere. It was so smooth,