"Goonan, Kathleen Ann - The Day The Dam Broke" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goonan Kathleen Ann)

standard suppressant of various pre-set biochemical barriers, and I complied.
The slight blip of yellow light gave me to know that though something was
minutely off, parity was very close, close enough to function, and I put it down
to lack of sophistication on the part of the cocoon. Ha!
The next day I opened my eyes enormously changed, in a very good humor. I stared
at the pipes above me and knew that one day in Columbus around 1910 or so, the
erroneous rumor that the dam had burst spread, and saw Thurber's swift line
drawings of stubby rounded Columbus citizens hoofing it out of the city in
droves. I knew that his family had an Airedale named Matt who bit a lot of
people. That story really made me howl, no pun intended, for I'd always longed
to have a dog (and now I have you, wonderful G.E. and very strong jaws you have
too! and one or two yous--the wrong ones--may have been bitten by them, far down
the road where I couldn't see). All those delicious Thurber stories, which so
lovingly described Columbus, hovered in my mind, in my vision, and I began to
laugh.
Just the knowledge that I was here, in Columbus, was enough to bring Thurber out
of inforam. My laughter echoed through the large empty room, bounced off the
pipes. My mission, so sharp when I left L.A. (you must understand I was second
in my class and they were extremely annoyed that I chose to leave; they had
other uses in mind for me) was faint and hazy in my mind, like an
almost-forgotten dream, when I opened my eyes. But not entirely forgotten. No,
not entirely.
And so I rolled out of the cocoon after twenty-four hours, alone. Light came in
through a high frosted window and I felt at home in this new place and thanked
the sheets, for they had historied me into everything. I knew the past of the
region and the medical history of all Don and Mildred's patients as well as that
of their parents and grandparents. I knew how to grow corn on the flood plain in
the spring. If an Iroquois had shown up, by God, I would have been able to speak
her native language with her, though without that stimulus I never would or
could utter a word of it.
I took a shower in the small dank concrete-floored stall. There were at least
fifty lockers there so I surmised that there had been a time when the cocoons
had heavy use. I dried myself, pulled on my skinsuit, and covered it with the
native clothing someone had thoughtfully left--overalls. I wear trousers now
which do not cling, and plaid shirts from the broken nan ski shop in Flin Flon,
which was fortunately well-stocked before the fluid dried up after the townsfolk
fled. Ah, what did I know of the fears of the people who lived outside the
domes? Sure I used to be an MD once but what did I know? I could cure fear with
the proper pheromones but you had to have the receptors first, and I had to have
diagnostic equipment, and the pher-pak. Such is life. I can set broken bones
now, I couldn't have then. I only knew how to use a computer, that's all,
thought I could block the plague but it took me as easily as anyone. Only much
more brief ly. It left me with respect.
And I like living here, save for the loneliness. It's all for the best and that
optimism comes direct from those Columbus sheets. Because of them I am able to
be amused though not at the vagaries of others for there aren't any others here.
I am just generally amused, and I'm always ready to be further amused, though
not at your expense of course. You would find me pretty amusing too I am sure.
You?
I am really here, really, concrete, flesh. Believe it. If You are kind, we could