"Egan, Greg - Extra, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Egan Greg)

certainly not within the electrified boundaries of their own homes. What ageing,
dissipated man or woman would wish to be surrounded by reminders of how healthy
and vigorous they might have been, if only they'd lived their lives differently?

Daniel Gray, however, found the contrasting appearance of his Extras entirely
pleasing to behold, given that he, and not they, would be the ultimate
beneficiary of their good health. In fact, his athletic, clean-living brothers
had already supplied him with two livers, one kidney, one lung, and quantities
of coronary artery and mucous membrane. In each case, he'd had the donor put
down, whether or not it had remained strictly viable; the idea of having
imperfect Extras in his collection offended his aesthetic sensibilities.
After the appearance of the Extras, nobody at the party could talk about
anything else. Perhaps, one stereovision luminary suggested, now that their host
had shown such courage, it would at last became fashionable to flaunt one's
Extras, allowing full value to be extracted from them; after all, considering
the cost, it was a crime to make use of them only in emergencies, when their
pretty bodies went beneath the surgeon's knife.
Gray wandered from group to group, listening contentedly, pausing now and then
to pluck and eat a delicate spice-rose or a juicy claret-apple (the entire
garden had been designed specifically to provide the refreshments for this
annual occasion, so everything was edible, and everything was in season). The
early afternoon sky was a dazzling, uplifting blue, and he stood for a moment
with his face raised to the warmth of the sun. The party was a complete success.
Everyone was talking about him. He hadn't felt so happy in years.
"I wonder if you're smiling for the same reason I am."
He turned. Sarah Brash, the owner of Continental Bio-Logic, and a recent former
lover, stood beside him, beaming in a faintly unnatural way. She wore one of the
patterned scarfs which Gray had made available to his guests; a variety of
gene-tailored insects roamed the garden, and her particular choice of scarf
attracted a bee whose painless sting contained a combination of a mild stimulant
and an aphrodisiac.
He shrugged. "I doubt it."
She laughed and took his arm, then came still closer and whispered, "I've been
thinking a very wicked thought."
He made no reply. He'd lost interest in Sarah a month ago, and the sight of her
in this state did nothing to rekindle his desire. He had just broken off with
her successor, but he had no wish to repeat himself. He was trying to think of
something to say that would be offensive enough to drive her away, when she
reached out and tenderly cupped his face in her small, warm hands.
Then she playfully seized hold of his sagging jowls, and said, in tones of mock
aggrievement, "Don't you think it was terribly selfish of you, Daniel? You gave
me your body . . . but you didn't give me your best one."
Gray lay awake until after dawn. Vivid images of the evening's entertainment
kept returning to him, and he found them difficult to banish. The Extra Sarah
had chosen - C7, one of the twenty-four-year-olds - had been muzzled and tightly
bound throughout, but it had made copious noises in its throat, and its eyes had
been remarkably expressive. Gray had learnt, years ago, to keep a mask of mild
amusement and boredom on his face, whatever he was feeling; to see fear,
confusion, distress and ecstasy, nakedly displayed on features that, in spite of
everything, were unmistakably his own, had been rather like a nightmare of