"Edward L. Ferman - Best From F&SF, 23rd Edition" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ferman Edward L)

"Five?" the tech says.
"Right"
"Reading's dead-on. Give me a few more tracks."
I comply. She kisses me with lips and tongue, working down across my belly.
"A little higher, please."
I push the tracks to fifteen.
"You're really hi a mood, Rob."
"So what do you want me to think?" I say.
"Jesus," says the tech- "You ought to be performing. The crowd would love it"
"They pay Jain. She's the star." / tried to get on top; she wouldn't let me. A moment later it didn't
matter.
"Did you just push the board to thirty?" The tech's voice sounds strange.
"No. Did you read that?"
"Negative, but for a moment it felt like it" He pauses. "You're not allowing your emotional life to get in
the way of your work, are you?"
"Screw off," I answer. "None of your business."
"No threats," says the tech. "Just a suggestion."
"Stick it"
"Okay, okay. She's a lovely girl, Rob. And like you say, she's the star."
"I know,"
"Fine. Feed me another five tracks, Rob; broad spectrum this time."
I do so and the tech is satisfied with the results. "That ought to do it," he says. "I'll get back to you
later." He breaks off the circuit. All checks are done; there's nothing now on the circuits but a
background scratch like insects climbing over old newspapers. She will not allow me to be exhausted for
long.
Noisily, the crowd is starting to file into the arena.
I wait for the concert.

VI

There's never before been a stim star the magnitude of Jain Snow. Yet somehow the concert tonight
fails. Somewhere the chemistry goes wrong. The faces out there are as alwaysтАФyet somehow they are
not involved. They care, but not enough.
I don't think the fault's in Jain. I detect no significant difference from other conceits. Her skin still
tantalizes the audience as nakedly, only occasionally obscured by the cloudy metal mesh that transforms
her entire body into a single antenna. I've been there when she's performed a hell of a lot better, maybe,
but I've also seen her perform worse and still come off the stage happy.
It isn't Moog Indigo; they're laying down the sound and light patterns behind Jain as expertly as
always.
Maybe it's me, but I don't think I'm handling the stim console badly. If I were, the nameless tech
would be on my ass over the com circuit
Jain goes into her final number. It does not work. The audience is enthusiastic and they want an
encore, but that's just it: they, shouldn't want one. They shouldn't need one.
She comes off the stage crying. I touch her arm as she walks past my console. Jam stops and rubs
her eyes and asks me if IтАЩll go back to the hotel with her.

VII

It seems tike the first time I was in Jam Snow's bed. Jain keeps the room dark and says nothing as
we go through the positions. Her breathing grows a little ragged; that is all. And yet she is more