"Gardner,.James.Alan.-.Expendable" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gardner James Alan)

My name is Festina Ramos and once upon a time, no one in the Technocracy took
greater pride in her personal appearance.
I showered, shampooed, depilated, and deodorized every morning without fail.
Nothing stood in the way of my morning ritual: not the fuzz of a hangover, nor
the arms of a beckoning bed-partner. My discipline was absolute.
I exercised more than forty hours a week, and always complete workouts: martial
arts, running, gymnastics, tai chi... even mountaineering when the opportunity
presented itself.
My body fat ranked at the lowest percentile considered healthy. People said they
envied my figure. For all I know, they might have been telling the truth.
I chose my civilian clothes with the care of an entertainer dressing for the
chips. Even when I was in uniform, fellow officers said that black fatigues
suited me.
Their very words: "Festina, that outfit suits you." They did not say, "Festina,
you look good."
My name is Festina Ramos and even before I was given that name, I was given a
lurid port-wine birthmark covering the right half of my face from cheekbone to
chin. Years of operant conditioning gave me great pride in my disfigurement.


The Doctors


Each doctor began by saying my condition could be corrected. How would they cure
me? Let me count the ways. They would cure me with electrolysis, with lasers,
with cryogenics, with plastic planing, with "sophisticated bio-active agents
conscientiously applied in a program of restoration therapy." Some even set a
date when I would be booked in for treatment.
Then the appointments were canceled. Sometimes the doctor apologized in person.
Sometimes the doctor invented excuses. Sometimes it was just a note from a
secretary.
Here is the reason my birthmark endured with purple defiance in the face of
twenty-fifth century medicine:
It had military value.


My Calling in Life


My calling in life was to land on hostile planets. I made first contacts with
alien cultures.
I went anyplace the Admiralty didn't know what the hell to expect.
Officially, I belonged to the Explorer Corps. Unofficially, we Explorers called
ourselves ECMs-short for Expendable Crew Members.


Why