"Lackey, Mercedes - Born To Run" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)
Ross looked down at his feet. УIа.а.а. I loved her too, more than the car, moreа.а.а.Ф he said, and Tannim didn't have to ask to know who he was talking about. УI cried like a goddamn baby every time I couldn't tell her how I felt. It was easier to drink the booze than to find the words. And I chased after her drunkа.а.а. hell, I didn't even know what road she was on. I couldn't even get dying right.а.а.а.Ф
Better intervene before he starts getting caught in a downward spiral. УUhhh, Ross, I've met a lot of spirits in my day, and there've been a lot of them who died 'good deaths,' real 'blaze of glory' stuff. Every one of 'em mentioned how stupid it was after all, you know, big picture stuff. I don't know if there is a right way to die. But, they all have had regrets about their livesа.а.а. the real heroes and the regular joes.Ф
УHmm. Yeah, well, I guess I have a lot to think about, and a lot of time to do it.Ф Ross turned, and pulled the cigarette from his lips. УSo now I get the chance to change things, huh? Fix what I shouldn't have been in at all. Fine.Ф He threw the cigarette down and ground it out. УI've wanted to quit smoking for twenty years now, and never could. I'll be damned if I'll do it when I'm dead. Don't start drinking or smoking, boy.Ф
Tannim smiled and said, УYeah, the stuff'll kill you.Ф
Ross bent down before the concrete pillar, and reached a translucent hand towards a sparkling shard of glass. He crouched there a moment longer and smoothed the dirt over it, then strode towards the Mustang, leaving his death behind him.
* * *
The Alan Parsons Project's УDon't Answer MeФ played on the tape deck as the wind rushed past the Machа1, its engine thrumming in mechanical symphony. The breeze from the open windows made the young driver's hair stream back against the seat-covers, and that same breeze blew right through his passenger.
Ross Canfield put his hand to his chin, shifted to lean his arm against the sill, and put his arm through it. He withdrew and tried again, this time successfully resting his arm against the vinyl. УShit, this is gonna be hard to get used to.Ф
Tannim chuckled and leaned forward to tap a sticking gauge. УYou're doing fine, Ross. Just remember, things in my world may or may not affect you. It's mostly a matter of what you want to be influenced by; for instance, you could, if you wanted to, fall right out of this car doing seventy now by simply deciding that seat won't affect you. Then, you may choose for the road not to affect you, and you wouldn't be hurt by the fall. But you missed the armrest just now because you forgot to 'want' it to affect you. Tricky, huh?Ф
УKinda likeЧwhat'd they used to say? Mind over matter?Ф
УExactly.Ф He nodded with approval. УNow, until you learn spirit-traveling, you're limited by your old human abilities. One day, you may be able to fly cross-country by will alone, but for now, if you fell out of the car, I'd have to stop and pick you up, 'cause you couldn't run fast enough to keep up with me.Ф
Ross chuckled. УYeah, but I can run faster now that I'm dead. No wheezy lungs from smoking, no beer gut.Ф
УYeah, and you can play tennis with dead pros to keep in shape.Ф
Ross and Tannim both laughed. УYou know, I never thought being dead would be so damned entertaining. And it seems like I should be more upset about it.Ф
Tannim kept his eyes on the road, but he smiled to himself. Ross Canfield was coming along very wellЧa lot faster than Tannim would have thought. УWell, seriously, Ross, there are a lot of ways to deal with it, but you're running on instinct. Your subconscious was aware you were dead, but your superconscious wasn't ready to accept it, so you stood there sucking a butt for a couple of years. Now, it's kind of a relief that it's out in the open, and you're able to get to the decisions you've been building towards all this time. And as for it being entertaining, kissing a bridge at lightspeed drunk off your ass is a grim thing, but there are a lot of things about being a ghost that are damn funny, no matter what the circumstances are.Ф
УLike fallin' through doors,Ф Ross supplied.
УUh huh. So, deal with it now with a laugh, because there are plenty of things in the future that'll make you cry, make you screamЧФ now he turned to look at Canfield out of the corner of his eye УЧmake you wish you were more dead than you are.Ф
УHuh. As you can tell by the two-year wait, I don't spook easily.Ф His face cracked with a smirk.
УRoss! I'd never picked you for a punster!Ф
УYeah, well, that's why I'm not in Heaven right now.Ф
Tannim grinned and thought about the turn of a friendly card. Maybe they were both lucky they'd met.
УSeriouslyа.а.а. what do I do now? How'm I supposed to learn all these ghost things, and how do I get outta bein' one? This shit's gonna get old eventually.Ф Now Ross looked uncertain. УI don't suppose you'd teach meЧФ
Tannim shook his head. УI can't, Ross. The best I can do is what I just didЧbreak you out of the stalemate you were in and get you started. Like most things, Ross, you have to get out and practice. Learn by doing. Talk to other ghosts, pick up the tricks. I can't show you what you need to know; I've got too many other irons in the fire, and I've got problems enough with people trying to make me into a ghost.Ф
At first Ross snorted; then he looked around, and squinted. His eyes widened, and Tannim figured he had started to see some of the protections on the Mustang. It was enough to impress himЧeven if he wasn't seeing more than a fraction of the magics Tannim had infused the Machа1 with. УThere are a couple of other things I can tell you: just like you can let the rest of the world affect you, with practice, you can influence what happens in the physical worldЧor; more accurately, the world I'm in right now. Like back there, when you touched that piece of glass, buried itа.а.а. there's a lotta different kinds of 'physical.' Making a change in this one means discovering how to make yours interact with it. That thing with the magnetics is an example of one you can't control; there are others you'll pick up soon enough.Ф
УSure. Stay away from things that make you tired, don't fiddle with walls that won't let you pass, and if anything tries to eat you, hurt it.Ф
УTries toЧeat me?Ф Ross's eyes widened again.
УThere's a lot of unfriendly things out there, including some that used to be human. Remember, don't attack first. Until you have the experience to tell friend from foe, be cautious. It's always easier to hold a defensive position anyway. And there are a lot of things out there that aren't human at all; treat them fairly, they can become very close friends. My best friend isn't human. Pretty simple. Otherwise, things are similar to living. You can have sex as a ghost, ride in an F-15. Fly on the Space Shuttle if you want, if you can find room. It's very popular. Enjoy it, and learn. That's the key to moving onЧknowledge and maturity are important.Ф
УBut, what about moving on? HowЧФ
Tannim shook his head. УI can't tell you; it's different for everyone. You'll know when. If you didn't know how, you'd have never seen the bridge back there; that was an important move. It shows you're finally ready to accept what you are.Ф
Ross was silent for a while, and the miles ticked away as the skyline of Savannah came into view. Finally he spoke. УTannimа.а.а. thanks.Ф
УNo thanks needed, friend,Ф Tannim said, slowing as he approached the city limit. УYou ready to take off on your own?Ф
Ross nodded. УIf you need anything, call. I'll find a way to get there. I guess this is dangerous work you're doing, and I owe you for this,Ф he said through teary spectral eyes. УI'd better get out there. I lost enough time getting shit-faced before, and I want to see what I missed.Ф
Tannim looked sideways at Ross Canfield, nodded, and turned his eyes back towards the highway, pulled to the shoulder and stopped. The city lights illuminated the car, the driver, and the empty seat beside him.
УBe sure to visit River Street while you're here, Ross. Always a party. Good luck. Here's your exit.Ф
The ghost stepped through the door onto the shoulder, and Tannim watched him in the rearview mirror, an ordinary enough guy, watching the Machа1's taillights recede into the night. OrdinaryЧexcept that only Tannim could see him.
And only Tannim could hear him, as clearly as if Ross still sat beside him.
УYou need me, you call.Ф
CHAPTER TWO
УThat was Georgia's own B-52s, with 'Rock Lobster,'аФ said the radio announcer, his cheerful voice murmuring from the sixteen speakers of Doctor Sam Kelly's home-built quadraphonic system. УNext up, Shriekback, the Residents, the new British release from George Louvis, and an oldie from Thomas Dolby, but firstа.а.а.Ф
Sam hit the УmuteФ button, and the commercial laded to a whisper. The timer would bring the volume back up in another sixty seconds, and by then the station should be back to music. Doctor Samuel Sean Kelly might have majored in metallurgy, but he had minored in electrical engineering; sensing, even back in the '40s, that the time would come when everyone had to have some understanding of electronics. After all, hadn't he grown up on H. G. Wells, and the science-fiction tradition that the engineer was the man who could and would save the universe? УNot bad, for an old retired fart,Ф he chuckled to his Springer Spaniel, Thoreau, who raised his head and ears as if he understood what his master was saying. УI liked Elvis in the '50s, I liked the Stones and the Fuggs in the '60s, and now, sure, I'm on the cutting edgeЧright, boyo?Ф
Thoreau wagged his stub of a tall and put his head back down on his paws. He didn't care how eclectic his master's taste in music was, so long as he didn't crank up those imposing speakers to more than a quarter of their capacity. When Sam retired from Gulfstream, he'd held a party for his younger colleagues that was still the talk of the neighborhood. There had been complaints to the police about the music from as far away as five blocks, and poor Thoreau had gone into hiding in the back closet of the bedroom, not to emerge for three days.
The desk-top before him was preternaturally clean, with only a single envelope cluttering the surface. Sam fingered the letter from УFairgrove Industries,Ф as the radio volume returned to normal, and Thomas Dolby complained of hyperactivity. He sat back in his aging overstuffed recliner, surrounded by his books, frowning at the empty room and wishing wistfully that he hadn't given up smoking. Or that he hadn't agreed to talk to this УTannimФ person.
It had seemed very harmless when he first got the letter; this УTannimФЧwhat sex the person was he hadn't known until the phone call came confirming the evening appointmentЧwanted to talk to him about a job as a consultant. He had offered Sam an amazing amount of money just to talk to him: fifteen hundred dollars for an evening of his otherwise idle time. Sam had said yes before he thought the consequences throughЧafter all, how many retired metallurgists could boost their income by that much just by talking to someone? But later, after he'd had lunch with some of the youngsters at Gulfstream and heard some of the latest news, he began to wonder. There was a lot going on over there right now; the joint project with the Russians, a lot of composite development and things being done with explosive welding and foamed aluminum. None of it was exactly secret, but there was a lot of proprietary information Sam was still privy toЧand more he could get clandestine access to, if he chose. What if this УFairgrove IndustriesФЧwhich was not listed with the Better Business Bureau, and not in any industrial database that Sam had access toЧwas just a front for something else? What if this Tannim was trying to set him up as a corporate informant, or looking for some Уinsider tradingФ type information? Sam had loved his job at Gulfstream; they were, as he joked, a Уgrowing, excited company.Ф He liked the people he worked with enough to socialize with them, even now, when he had been retired for the past several months. He wasn't interested in doing anything that would hurt the company.
Sam tapped the edge of the envelope on his desk and made up his mind about what he was going to do, now that he had realized the implications. УWell, Thoreau, if this young fella thinks I'm some kind of senile old curmudgeon he can fool with a silver tongue and a touch of blarney, he's going to be surprised,Ф Sam said aloud. УIf it's looking to make a fool of me he is, I just may be making a fool of him.Ф
If this Tannim was trying to set him up as a corporate informant, Sam decided, this old man would turn the tables on him. There was a break-in camera under the eaves; it took snaps when the burglar alarm went off, but it could be operated manually. Very well, then, he'd snap pictures of the man's car and license tag when he arrived. First thing in the morning, he'd call his old bosses, give them the number and the young man's description, and let them know exactly what had gone on. Looking for a corporate informant wasn't illegal, exactlyЧbut the fellows at Gulfstream could certainly put a stop to anything shady.
And Sam would still have the fifteen hundred dollars.
Not bad, when you stopped to think out all the implications first, rather than backtracking in a panic. Assuming of course, the check didn't bounce.
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