"David G. Hartwell - Year's Best SF 8" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hartwell David G)

тАЬOkay, Miss Kadivar, you would seem to be the more rational of the two parties, so let me talk
sense to you. You have no future with this man. What kind of wicked man seduces a decent girl with
phone pranks? HeтАЩs an aayash, heтАЩs a playboy. America has a fifty percent divorce rate. He would
never ask your father honorably for your hand. What would your mother say?тАЭ
тАЬWho is this awful man?тАЭ she said, shaken. тАЬHe knows everything!тАЭ
тАЬHeтАЩs a snake!тАЭ Felix said. тАЬHeтАЩs the devil!тАЭ
тАЬYou still donтАЩt get it, compadre. IтАЩm not the Great Satan. Really, IтАЩm not! I am the good guy. IтАЩm
your guardian angel, dude. I am trying really hard to give you back a normal life.тАЭ
тАЬOkay cop, you had your say, now listen to me. I love her body and soul, and even if you kill me
dead for that, the flames in my heart will set my coffin on fire.тАЭ
She burst into tears. тАЬOh God, my God, thatтАЩs the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.тАЭ
тАЬYou kids are sick, okay?тАЭ Portillo snapped. тАЬThis would be mental illness that IтАЩm eavesdropping
on here! You two donтАЩt even speak each otherтАЩs language. You had every fair warning! Just
remember, when it happens, you made me do it. Now try this one on for size, Romeo and Juliet.тАЭ The
phones went dead.
Felix placed his dead phone on the tabletop. тАЬOkay. Situation report. WeтАЩve got no phones, no
passports, no ID and two different intelligence agencies are after us. We canтАЩt fly, we canтАЩt drive, we
canтАЩt take a train or a bus. My credit cards are useless now, my bank cards will just track me down, and
I guess IтАЩve lost my job now. I canтАЩt even walk out my own front doorтАж. And wow, you donтАЩt
understand a single word IтАЩm saying. I can tell from that look in your eye. You are completely thrilled.тАЭ
She put her finger to her lips. Then she took him by the hand.

Apparently, she had a new plan. It involved walking. She wanted to walk to Los Angeles. She knew
the words тАЬLos Angeles,тАЭ and maybe there was somebody there that she knew. This trek would involve
crossing half the American continent on foot, but Felix was at peace with that ambition. He really thought
he could do it. A lot of people had done it just for the sake of gold nuggets, back in 1849. Women had
walked to California just to meet a guy with gold nuggets.
The beautiful part of this scheme was that, after creeping out the window, they really had vanished.
The feds might be all over the airports, over everything that mattered, but they didnтАЩt care about what
didnтАЩt matter. Nobody was looking out for dangerous interstate pedestrians.
To pass the time as they walked, she taught him elementary Farsi. The dayтАЩs first lesson was body
parts, because that was all they had handy for pointing. That suited Felix just fine. If anything, this
expanded their passionate communion. He was perfectly willing to starve for that, fight for that and die
for that. Every form of intercourse between man and woman was fraught with illusion, and the bigger, the
better. Every hour that passed was an hour they had not been parted.
They had to sleep rough. Their clothes became filthy. Then, on the tenth day, they got arrested.

She was, of course, an illegal alien, and he had the good sense to talk only Spanish, so of course, he
became one as well. The Immigration cops piled them into the bus for the border, but they got two seats
together and were able to kiss and hold hands. The other deported wretches even smiled at them.
He realized now that he was sacrificing everything for her: his identity, his citizenship, flag, church,
habits, moneyтАжEverything, and good riddance. He bit thoughtfully into his wax-papered cheese
sandwich. This was the federal bounty distributed to every refugee on the bus, along with an apple, a
small carton of homogenized milk, and some carrot chips.
When the protein hit his famished stomach Felix realized that he had gone delirious with joy. He was
growing by this experience. It had broken every stifling limit within him. His dusty, savage, squalid world
was widening drastically.
Giving alms, for instanceтАФbefore his abject poverty, heтАЩd never understood that alms were holy.
Alms were indeed very holy. From now onтАФas soon as he found a place to sleep, some place that was
so wrecked, so torn, so bleeding, that it never asked uncomfortable questions about a plumberтАФas soon