"Christopher Hinz - Paratwa 03 - The Paratwa" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hinz Christopher)

"I do not think that I will be able to do much relaxing in the weeks to come."

Nick gazed up at the brooding skies. "Yeah . . . the storm's a-coming."

Susan Quint, at a state of consciousness somewhere between the dusk and the darknessтАФon the rim of
the dreamtimeтАФ believed in her own immortality.

It was a feeling totally consistent with her new-found body-thought, her hyperenhanced awareness of
self, the completeness of existing freely in one place at one time: her intellect a true focusing and
amplification of base emotionsтАФanger, fear, joy, sorrowтАФthose raw natural feelings complementing the
deeper urges of the physical self.

/ am a force existing discretely within a matrix of other forces. I am a human being alive within the larger
world.

Susan pulled back from the dreamtime, allowed logical thought to disengage slightly from the undammed
flow of mind/emotion/body, allowed herself to perceive her own nature from a distance, like a winding
river glimpsed from a steep hill. Now she could see her vision of immortality through the unencumbered
apparatus of digital conception, as a human mimicking the actions of a computer. Far above the river of
her own soul, she could analyze the interconnections among the three distinct states of consciousness.
From that vantage point, she conceived of immortality as it truly was, not as some mythological state
enabling a person to live forever, but as the free, totally unencumbered flow between the distinct facets of
her own self: mind/emotion/body. Within the realm of the creature known as Susan Quint, she could
move in any direction; the river brooked no bounds. She could swim to any inlet, bask on any bank, dive
beneath the deepest stretches of water without mortal fear of drowning in whirlpools of childhood pain.

Yet she could see clearly those places where she was again a child, trying to understand her parents'
bizarre behavior, trying to attain a stability within a home thatтАФat timesтАФ offered little more than a dark
sanctuary against the more dimly understood dangers of the real world. Now Susan could apply the logic
of intellect to that portion of her life. Now she could understand how her parents' fanatic religious
devotion to the Church of the Trust had driven them insane, and how that insanity had created the
wellsprings for much of the unpleasantness in her life. The greatest turbulence had occurred during
Susan's eleventh year, when her mother and father had committed suicide.

She would never again forget the pain.

I am my body-thought. I have access to the entire tapestry of my past; all my triumphs, all my grief. I am
immortal. I contain eternity.

"Where are you?" challenged a voice.
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Susan, with one impossibly fast motion, dove from that

conceptual vantage point, high above that river of her life, back into the roaring clarity of pure
body-thought. In the relatively spacious midcompartment of their shuttle, she whirled to face the voice.