"David Marusek - The Wedding Album" - читать интересную книгу автора (Marusek David)

"What for? I know what it is. High school, dressing up, lusting after boys, dancing. Who needs it?
Delete file." The item blinked three times before vanishing, and the directory scrolled up to fill the
space. The young sim shivered, and Anne said, "Select the next one."

The next item was entitled A MidsummerтАЩs Night Dream. Now the young Anne was compelled to
speak, "You canтАЩt delete that one. You were great in that, donтАЩt you remember? Everyone loved
you. It was the best night of your life."

"DonтАЩt presume to tell me what was the best night of my life," Anne said. "Unlock A MidsummerтАЩs
Night Dream." She smiled at the young Anne. "Delete file." The menu item blinked out. "Good.
Now unlock all the files." The whole directory turned from red to green.

"Please make her stop," the sim implored.

"Next," said Anne. The next file was High School Graduation. "Delete file. Next." The next was
labeled only, Mama.

"Anne," said Ben, "why donтАЩt we come back to this later. The house says dinnerтАЩs ready."

She didnтАЩt respond.

"You must be famished after your busy day," he continued. "I know I am."

"Then please go eat, dear," she replied. To the room she said, "Play Mama."

The media room was overlaid by a gloomy bedroom that Ben at first mistook for their own. He
recognized much of the heavy Georgian furniture, the sprawling canopied bed in which he felt so
claustrophobic, and the voluminous damask curtains, shut now and leaking yellow evening light.
But this was not their bedroom, the arrangement was wrong.

In the corner stood two placeholders, mute statues of a teenaged Anne and her father, grief
frozen on their faces as they peered down at a couch draped with tapestry and piled high with
down comforters. And suddenly Ben knew what this was. It was AnneтАЩs motherтАЩs deathbed sim.
Geraldine, whom heтАЩd never met in life nor holo. Her bald eggshell skull lay weightless on feather
pillows in silk covers. They had meant to cast her farewell and accidently caught her at the
precise moment of her death. He had heard of this sim from Cathy and others. It was not one he
would have kept.

Suddenly, the old woman on the couch sighed, and all the breath went out of her in a bubbly
gush. Both Annes, the graduate and the naked one, waited expectantly. For long moments the
only sound was the tocking of a clock that Ben recognized as the Seth Thomas clock currently
located on the library mantel. Finally there was a cough, a hacking cough with scant strength
behind it, and a groan, "Am I back?"

"Yes, Mother," said Anne.

"And IтАЩm still a sim?"

"Yes."