"Greg Egan - Worthless (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Egan Greg)

My theft was discovered, of course, and it didn't take much investigating to
find the culprit. My own name was on the stolen mailing list -- and when the
keystroke timing signature for the phone call in question was compared with the
staff cash register records, only one person matched.
The manager didn't press charges, he just sacked me on the spot. (My comrades
cheered.) I walked all the way home, giddy with freedom, intoxicated by every
breath of the cool night air, staring up at the lights of Market Street's
unrentable skyscrapers as if I'd never seen them before in my life.
I told myself: I must have planned it this way all along; one small shock to the
system, that's all I needed, to snap me out this trance, to wake me from this
sleep I've called life.
As I walked, I sang:
You never have lived
And you never will live
Because you've never wanted to
But in my arms
And in my bed
We'll find a substitute
First thing in the morning, I hocked my ancient CD player, put everything I
owned into a suitcase (the Azciak black box included), and bought a ticket for
Adelaide.



The bus driver said he liked both kinds of music -- Country and Western -- and
he sure hoped that we did, too. Those of us who hadn't brought protection went
through hell; I'd never thought I'd find myself ready to kill for a Walkman.
I still had your songs, though, etched into my memory, and the closer I drew to
my destination, the more convinced I became that you were with me, guiding me.
It didn't seem like such a strange idea; you had no body of your own, no senses
of your own. Only the songs made you real, and if they were in my head, then so


file:///G|/rah/Greg%20Egan/Egan,%20Greg%20-%20Worthless.txt (5 of 8) [2/2/2004 2:02:58 AM]
 file:///G|/rah/Greg%20Egan/Egan,%20Greg%20-%20Worthless.txt

were you.
Yes it's true, I travelled a thousand miles
Just to be beside you
And it's true, I gave up a "life" of my own
Just to follow your trail
And if all I've ever been, and all I've ever owned
Is no great price in your eyes
Won't you give me
One last smile
Before you walk away?
Farmland and bushland, forest and desert alike were all reduced to sepia by the
bus's tinted windows -- and in the late afternoon the landscape was swallowed
completely by the glare of sunlight on the scratched glass.
When night fell, the driver regaled us with a non-stop selection of Nashville's