"Gordon R. Dickson - Childe Cycle 02 - Necromancer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

the coast guard. Or that you knew you were dangerously
far offshore for any weather, in such a light sailboat."
So the storm had driven him out to sea and lost him.
He had been adrift, and in the still days following, death
had come like some heavy gray bird to sit perched on the
idle mast, waiting.
". . . You were in a condition for hallucination," said
the psychiatrist. "It was natural to imagine you had al-
ready died. Then, when afterward you were rescued, you
automatically searched for some justification of the fact
that you were still alive. Your unconscious provided this
fantasy of having been brought back to life by a father-
like figure, tall and mysterious, and wrapped in the
garments that denote magical ability. But when you had
fully recovered, your conscious mind could not help
finding this story somewhat thin."
No, thought Paul, it couldn't help thinking so. He
remembered, in the San Diego hospital, lying there and
doubting the whole memory.
"So to bolster it, you produced these moments of ex-
treme, almost painful sensitivity. Which filled two needs.
They provided support for your delirium fantasy of hav-
ing been raised from the dead, and they acted as an ex-
cuse for what had caused the death-wish in the first place.
Unconsciously you were telling yourself that you were not
crippled, but 'different.'"
"Yes," Paul had said at that point. "I see."
"Now that you've dug out the true situation for your-
self, the need for justification should diminish. The fan-
 tasy should fade and the sensitivity moments grow less
frequent, until they disappear."
"That's good to hear," said Paul.
Only, in the past five years the moments had not dwin-
dled and disappeared. They had stayed with him, as
the original dream had stuck stubbornly in the back of
his mind. He thought of seeing another psychiatrist, but
then the thought would come that the first had done him
no good at all. So what was there to expect from a sec-
ond?
Instead, in order to live with his problem, he had
anchored himself to something that he had discovered in
himself since the accident. Deep within him now, some-
thing invincible stood four-square to the frequent gusts
from the winds of feeling. Somehow he thought of it as
being connected to, but independent of, the dream ma-
gician in the tall hat. So when, as now, the winds blew
warnings, he felt them without being driven by them.
Fear: said the mountains. Do not go dawn into the
mine.
That's foolish, said Paul's conscious mind. It reminded