"Jerry Davis - Justification" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davis Jerry)

thing you have to do even before we begin this is make a solid commitment to become a
honest, worthy citizen after we get you past your five-year evaluation. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Okay. I'll make the arrangements, you work on positive thinking. I'll call you at your
home when I set up the appointment with the hypnotist. Okay?" They shook hands, and Dale
left his office feeling much better.

#

Two days later, Dale was right in the middle of the newest episode of Wide Open Beavers
in Mexico when his phone rang and Vlad announced that an appointment had been made.
Dale quickly wrote down the details and hung up, rushing to get dressed and ready so he
could make the next trolley at the station.
It had been raining off and on that day, but at the moment the sun was shining through a
hole in the clouds and the streets and sidewalks sparkled with water droplets. The world
looked clean and fresh, and Dale took it as a good omen. It darkened again as he boarded the
trolley, and was pouring down in god-awful torrents when he reached his destination. It was a
small ground-level station on Harding Way, deep within the Old Town. Buildings of brick
and concrete a hundred years old stood quietly crumbling amid the hustle and cries of street
salesmen. Dale passed prostitutes who had current wires braided through their hair and into
their scalp, and skinny teenage boys offering little bags of pale blue powder, a drug called
"Carny" which was actually the processed spoor of some South American beetle. "It's like
going to a circus!" one told Dale. An Asian man in a black coat stood in a doorway, watching
him, and Dale realized the doorway belonged to the address where he was supposed to meet
Vlad.
"Hi," Dale said. "You work here?"
"What's your name?" the man asked.
"Dale."
"Come inside." He opened the door and ushered him though. Dale was surprised, the

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inside looked like it had once been a church. There were pews and an alter, and discolored
paint on the wall that marked where a huge cross used to hang. "You here to get a doodad
installed?"
"A doodad?" echoed Dale.
"A pleasure interface." His eyes bore into Dale's own. "No?"
"No. I was supposed to meet my lawyer----"
"Okay! Sorry, my mistake. Right this way." He led Dale across the room and through
another door. The room beyond was small, cluttered with piles of computer decks and
peripherals, and had one large stained-glass window. In the corner was a chair with a skull
cap attached, an old cerebral induction setup. "Take a seat, Vlad should be here any minute.
I'll be right back." He left and closed the door behind him, leaving Dale alone. Dale shivered.
It was cold and clammy, and smelled of mildew.
He sat in the induction chair and waited. Twenty minutes went by, and Dale was just
about ready to get up and leave when he heard laughing voices and footsteps approaching.
The door opened and Vlad and the oriental man walked in, stifling their laughter. It gave Dale
the impression that they were laughing about him. "Hey, Dale, are you ready?"
"Yes."