"James Patrick Kelly - Lovestory" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kelly James Patrick)

LOVESTORY
James Patrick Kelly
A DF Books NERDs Release

Copyright (C)1998 by James Patrick Kelly

First published in Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine, June 1998

One

Mam should have guessed something was wrong as soon as the father entered the nursery. His ears were
slanted back, his ruby fur fluffed. He smelled as sad as a cracked egg. But Mam ignored him, skimming
her reading finger down the leaf of her lovestory. It was about a family just like theirs, except that they
lived in a big house in the city with a pool in every room and lots of robot servants. That family loved one
another, but bad people kept trying to drive them apart.

? How's the scrap tonight?? The father shut the door behind him as if it were made of glass.

It was then that Mam realized the mother wasn't with him. ? What is it?? She bent the corner of the leaf
back to mark her place. The father and mother always visited together. She loosened her grip on the
lovestory and it rewound into its watertight case.

? Wa-wa, it's the lucky father!? The scrap tumbled out of the dark corner where she had been hiding
and hugged the father's legs. ? Luck always, Pa-pa- pa !? The father staggered, almost toppled onto the
damp, spongy rug, but then caught himself. The scrap had been running wild all night, talking back to the
jokestory she was only half-watching on the tell, choreographing battles with her mechanical ants, making
up nonsense songs, trying to crawl in and out of Mam's pouch for no good reason. It was almost dawn
and the scrap was still skittering around the nursery like a loose button.

? Oh, when the father swims near,? sang the scrap, ? and he comes up for air, all the families cheer.?

He reached down, scooped her into his arms and smoothed her silky brown fur, which was wet where it
had touched the floor. It had only been in the last month that the scrap had let anyone but Mam hold her.
Now she happily licked the father's face.

? Who's been teaching you rhyme?? he said. ? Your mam?? He laughed then, but his wide, yellow eyes
were empty.

? Mam is fat and Mam is slow. If I'm a brat, well, she don't know.?

? Hush, little scrap,? said the father. ? Your tongue is so long we might have to cut some off.? He
snipped two fingers at her.

? Eeep!? The scrap wriggled in his arms and he set her down. She scrambled across the room to Mam's
settle and would've wormed into her pouch, but Mam was in no mood and cuffed her lightly away. The
scrap was almost a tween, too old for such clowning. Soon it would be time for them to part; she was
giving Mam stretch marks.

? Silmien, what is it?? Mam waved at the tell to turn the scrap's annoying jokestory off. ? Something has
happened.?