"Samuel R. Delany - High Weir" - читать интересную книгу автора (Delaney Samuel R)

"тАФthat you can walk around," Mak finished.

"You can walk around up to a hundred and eighty degrees," Smith amended. "It's
just a completely different way of storing information than the regular photographic
method. And it is far more efficient."

Jones said softly, from across the gaming board, "It's your move, Rimky."

"Oh." Rimkin picked up another black oval from his pot between his first two fingers
and hesitated above the grid, dotted with white and black. Bits of information. He
tried to encompass the areas of territory mapped below him, but they kept breaking
up into small corner battles. "There." He clicked his stone to the board.

Jones frowned. "Sure you don't want to take that move back?"

"No. No, I don't"

"You can, you know," Jones went on, affable. "This isn't chess. The rules are that
you can take a move back if youтАФ"

"I know that," Rimkin said loudly. "Don't you think I know that? I want to go"тАФhe
looked around and saw the others watchingтАФ"there!" The click of his stone had
been very loud.

"All right." Jones' stone ticked the board. "Double attari." But Rimkin was looking
past Jones' small, heart-shaped Nigerian face to the others in the room, thinking,
How can I tell them apart? They all just blend with one another. The room is round,
their faces are round, stuck on little round bodies. Suddenly he closed his eyes. If
they started talking, I know I wouldn't be able to tell any of them apart. How is one
supposed to know? How?

And if I opened my eyes?
"Your move, Rimkin," Jones said. "I've got two of your stones in attari."

Rimkin opened his eyes on the grid of black and white. "Oh," he said, and tried to
strangle up a laugh. "Yes. That was a pretty silly move after all, wasn't it?"

┬╖┬╖┬╖┬╖┬╖


III
Such an absurd move; he lay in his bunk with his eyes closed and his lips open over
his teeth in a leer, trying to think of a better one. He hadn't slept in two nights. An
hour like this тАж maybe it was only a few minutes, but it seemed like an hour тАж and
he sat up.

He swung the reading machine over his bed and rolled it to the closing of the
Tractatus. He'd been rereading it the afternoon the skimmer had left Bellona: Wovon
man nicht sprechen kann.тАж He pushed the machine aside and ran his hand under his
undershirt. The skimmer would not leave till the morning. They should return to