"James Patrick Kelly - Burn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kelly James Patrick)talked at once baffled and fascinated Spur.
"So let's have a look at those burns," said the docbot. Spur rolled onto his stomach and folded his arms under his chin. The docbot pulled the hospital gown up. Spur could feel its medfinger pricking the dermal grafts that covered most of his back and his buttocks. "Dr. Niss?" said Spur. "Speak up," said the docbot. "That doesn't hurt does it?" "No, sir." Spur lifted his head and tried to look back over this shoulder. "But it's really itchy." "Dermal regeneration 83 percent," it muttered. "Itchy is alive, son. Itchy is growing." "Sir, I was just wondering, where are you exactly?" "Right here." The docbot began to flow warm dermslix to the grafts from its medfinger. "Where else would I be?" Spur chuckled, hoping that was a joke. He could remember a time when he used to tell jokes. "No, I mean your body." "The shell? Why?" The docbot paused. "You don't really want to be asking about qics and the cognisphere, do you? The less you know about the upside, the better, son." Spur felt a prickle of resentment. What stories were upsiders telling each other about Wal-den? That the "I wasn't asking about the upside, exactly. I was asking about you. I mean ... you saved me, Dr. Niss." It wasn't at all what Spur had expected to say, although it was certainly true. "If it wasn't for you, it... I was burnt all over, probably going crazy. And I thought...." His throat was suddenly so tight that he could hardly speak. "I wanted to... you know, thank you." "Quite unnecessary," said the docbot. "After all, the Chairman is paying me to take care of all of you, bless his pockets." It tugged at Spur's hospital gown with its gripper arm. "I prefer the kind of thanks I can bank, son. Everything else is just used air." "Yes, but...." "Yes, but?" It finished pulling the gown back into place. тАЬтАШYes but' are dangerous words. Don't forget that you people lead a privileged life here - courtesy of Jack Winter's bounty and your parents' luck." Spur had never heard anyone call the Chairman Jack. "It was my grandparents who won the lottery, sir," he said. "But yes, I know I'm lucky to live on Walden." "So why do you want to know what kind of creature would puree his mind into a smear of quantum foam and entangle it with a bot brain a hundred and thirty-some light-years away? Sit up, son." Spur didn't know what to say. He had imagined that Dr. Niss must be posted nearby, somewhere here at the upsiders' compound at Concord, or perhaps in orbit. "You do realize that the stars are very far away?" |
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