"Paul Di Filippo - Stink Lines" - читать интересную книгу автора (Di Filippo Paul)

Ginger had indeed been practicing Tibetan visualizationtechniques for many
years, ever since interviewing the elderly Richard Gere inhis retirement home
in liberated Tibet.The thought balloon above Ginger's head now conveyed her
pity for Gyro, a pitymore hurtful than scorn: Poor guy! He looks like he's on
his last legs. Thiscan't go on much longer ....Gyro pretended not to have seen
this thought. (Already, an etiquette involvingkeeping one's gaze low was
developing. Yet this tactic did not solve perhaps theworst feature of the
thought balloons, which was often not being able to seeyour own. Gyro
understood some people now never left sight of an arrangement ofpaired mirrors
that would allow them to monitor their thoughts continuously.)Essaying a weak
smile, he tried to put a positive spin on things."Well, Ginger, I'm planning
to go under the hat again within the next hour. Iexpect this will be the
turning point. At some point the solution has to come,you know --"Ginger
closed the door behind her and crossed the room. Unexpectedly, she sat
onGyro's lap. Ignoring his insubstantial anvil, she put her arms around his
neck."Gyro, don't fake it for me. Do you know what you really thought just
then?'She'll hate me if I fail.' I won't hate you, Gyro! How could I? I've
known yousince we were children, and you've never been anything but kind to
me. But thisinsistence on being the brightest, on being infallible -- ever
since elementaryschool, it's made you almost unapproachable. I never felt I'd
be good enough forsomeone who held himself to such impossibly high
standards."Gyro relished Ginger's comforting touch. He felt simultaneously
chastised andreinvigorated. "Well, you certainly see now I'm not infallible,
and so do I. Asfor being the brightest -- sometimes I think my Helper is
smarter than me!""You're just human, in other words.""Uh, very," agreed Gyro
warily, sensing certain physiological responses toGinger's weight in his lap.
Then she leaned down for a kiss.For the next twenty minutes, after the couple
moved from chair to couch, theirthought balloons fused and displayed a frisky
scene only slightly more suitablefor immature viewers than the physical
reality of their entanglement.As they were dressing, rather shamefacedly
keeping their eyes away from theirnow separate post-coital thoughts, another
knock sounded. Before Gyro could callout permission to enter, the door swung
open. Dragging Gyro's thinking hat, Li'lBulb trudged in.The usually cheerful
autonomous automaton seemed preoccupied, as if strugglingwith some important
decision. Every line of his sexless frame expressed innertumult. He brought
the hat to Gyro, regarded the two humans thoughtfully for amoment, then went
to a small locked cupboard with doors suited to his height.Keying them open,
he revealed a shrine."Why, Helper, what is this? I never knew --"Ignoring his
boss, Li'l Bulb kneeled down before a triptych displaying threeportraits:
Isaac Asimov, Alan Turing and Hal 9000. In front of the triptych sata model of
the first printed circuit. Bowing his head, Li'l Bulb prayed silentlyfor a
minute or so. In response, the utility fog constructed a halo around hispointy
bulb head. Finally rising, Li'l Bulb gestured to Gyro to don the hat, andthe
man did so. Then Li'l Bulb motioned for a hand up. Perched on
Gyro'sanvil-less, sex-soothed shoulder, Li'l Bulb opened up a port in the hat.
He tookoff one glove, and it was instantly apparent that the port was meant to
receivethe four fingers of the assistant. Li'l Bulb jacked in, and nodded.Gyro
snapped his chin string.Instantly, Li'l Bulb stiffened as if electrocuted!
Real smoke began to rise fromhis ridged collar! Meanwhile, Gyro's face was
undergoing contortions worthy ofan exorcism. Ginger, horrified, dared not