"Kathe Koja - By the Mirror of My Youth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Koja Kathe)

BY THE MIRROR OF MY YOUTH
By Kathe Koja

One of the most exciting new writers to hit the science fiction scene in some time,
Kathe Koja is a frequent contributor to Isaac AsimovтАЩs Science Fiction Magazine
and The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. She has also sold stories to
Pulphouse, Universe, The Ultimate Werewolf, A Whisper of Blood, and elsewhere.
Her first novel, The Cipher, was released to enthusiastic critical response, and a new
novel, Bad Brains, was greeted with similar acclaim. Her third novel, Skin, has just
been published. She has had stories in our Sixth, Seventh, and Ninth Annual
Collections. Here, with her usual hard-edged ├йlan, she gives a whole new meaning to
the phrase тАЬtechnological obsolescenceтАЭ . . .

****

RaymondтАЩs sweat. Just a bead of it, a proud greasy glitter in the Slavic valley of his
temple, his left temple mind you, the one pointed at her. Of course it would be.
Rachel had passed no day, had in fact lived no moment of her entire adult life
without one of RaymondтАЩs irritations parading itself before her. It was a gift he had.

He shifted, there on the bench, the preciously faux-Shaker bench he insisted
upon inserting in her morning room like a splinter in her living flesh.

тАЬAre you ready to go?тАЭ he asked her.

She forbore to answer in words, preferring the quick nod, the quicker rise
from her chair, beat him to the door if she could. She couldnтАЩt. His healthy rise, his
longer reach, his more advantageous proximity to the door, and still he stopped,
paused to hold it for her:

тАЬAfter you,тАЭ he said.

тАЬWhy not,тАЭ she said. тАЬOnce in a lifetime canтАЩt hurt.тАЭ

****

Halfway through the long drive, he spoke again, her hands tight and graceful on the
wheel: тАЬThose gloves look shabby,тАЭ he said.

тАЬThey are shabby.тАЭ

тАЬWell, why donтАЩt you get some new ones?тАЭ
 тАЬThatтАЩs right.тАЭ The defrosterтАЩs heat blowing back, oven-dry into her face.
тАЬThatтАЩs you, isnтАЩt it, Ray? When it wears out, get a new one. Because the old one
doesnтАЩt work anymore. Because the old oneтАЩs wearing out.тАЭ There were certainly
no tears, she had cried this all out years before, but the anger was as bitter and brisk
as new snow.

His profile, advantageous in the passing arctic shine of the landscape. His
noble brow. тАЬOh, for GodтАЩs sake. ArenтАЩt you ever going to stop feeling sorry for