"Davis, Jerry - Voodoo Computer Healer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davis Jerry)

There was a humming sound, and garbage --- looking a lot like
Egyptian hieroglyphics --- filled the screen. "It's trying to
boot," I said, "but either the main board is damaged or there's
scrambled data on the hard drive."
"Oh," Nick said. Everyone had grim expressions. I tried
another test with a floppy disk. The computer started and ran
through its paces, but as soon as I tried to access the hard drive
it came to a halt. More garbage filled the screen. "The trouble is
in the hard drive, all right," I said.
More grim faces. The novelist looked like someone had just
shot his dog to death. "Oh," is all he could say.
"How long have you been working on this novel?" I asked.
"Years," he said.
"Years?"
"Years and years." His voice was barren and hollow.
I looked at everyone in the room. I looked at Janet. "We need
to turn on the music."
"At a time like this?" Steve said.
"Yes. Especially at a time like this."
Bob had a gleam in his eyes. He half-grinned, like he had a
secret. I believe he had an inkling of what I had in mind. Bob
went and turned up the stereo, putting on a B-52's album. "Let's
go down to the looooove shack!" shouted the speakers. "Love shack,
yeahhh!"
I started dancing. Janet, looking a little perplexed, started
dancing with me. Positive energy, I thought. Let me feel it. Let
me absorb the music, the dancing. Flow . . . flow . . . warm
music, warm dancing. Warm feelings. Even the novelist was smiling.
Janet and I gyrated together, generating that energy. Nick tapped
on a monitor with a pen, helping the rhythm with a staccato clack
clack CLACK! Steve shook his head, saying, "You guys are nuts,"
but he wasn't disapproving --- he wanted to see something happen.
He wanted a miracle.
I felt it growing in me, blossoming. The power was in my
arms, in my hands --- they felt like they would glow in the dark.
Still rocking with the beat, I danced to the work bench and held
onto that computer, held it tight, flooding it. When the moment
felt right, I turned it on.
It came up without a glitch.
The novel was there.
From that point on it seemed there would be no stopping us.
Business kept growing, mainly because people felt good as soon as
they entered the store. Nick felt good and he kept on slashing the
prices. I performed miracle after miracle on the tech bench,
resurrecting data from the dead, healing ill IC chips, brightening
lost CRT's.
It was a cold November day when a college professor brought
in an old Apple III CPU, a model that hadn't sold well and was
actually quite rare. He'd just walked in and I happened to be out
front, and I said, "Let me take that for you." He handed it to me,