"FWLS62" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See) I brightened up immediately. Wow! Here I was thinking the
world didn't give a shit about me anymore, and someone took the time and the effort to hire an agent to come and kill me. I was hated, recognized for what I was. It felt wonderful. I was going to die the only way I could. "Over to the chair," she said, physically pushing me over to one of my kitchen chairs. She pulled her thermos on a strap off and over her head, securing it behind the chair. The strap automatically tightened, lashing me to the chair, arms pointing downward. "Neat," I admitted. "Thanks. One of the many toys we get to use," she said, walking around to my front, blaster still pointed at me, rock steady. She tugged at her ear, and twisted her mouth to try to talk into it. "Agent 7659. Target acquired. Pickup." "Pick up?" I asked. "What, you're not going to kill me?" "No. You're going up the river, pal, for what you've done," she said. "Nice and legal, just like the old days of courts and law. On NSSAC's jail, of course, since there isn't much of a court system anymore." "What, you're putting me away? Why? What's the point? I'm a killer, a murderer and rapist of all people. I'm supposed to DIE, not live." "Rehabilitation. NSSAC doesn't believe in pointless violence, unlike you," she said. "We're going to make you a fully functional member of society." "I was one once. It wasn't very enjoyable. The pain of never knowing what you were, always in self doubt. I don't doubt myself anymore; I know I'm scum. It's a warm feeling, in a way. I don't want to be brainwashed into that state again." "I'm not here to kill you," she said. "You could be a nice guy if you wanted to be. A Silly, if that's what you wanted to be. Just go with us quietly, and you won't have to die." I considered this. It was a way out, a way to fit back in and not have to perform on the public again. What would I be, though, after? Happy? I have no talents, no skills, no goals other than to kill. I'd be less than nothing. I'd be nice, not- self. No; I had to get out of this, or die trying. She was sloppy. Didn't even notice the knife in my back |
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