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

me. Well, hereтАЩs my considered response. Next file! Delete! Next file! Delete! Next file!" One by one,
the files blinked out.

"Stop it!" screamed the girl. "Make her stop it!"

"Select that file," Anne said, pointing at the young Anne. "Delete." The sim vanished, cap, gown,
tassels, and all. "Whew," said Anne, "at least now I can hear myself think. She was really getting on
my nerves. I almost suffered a relapse. Was she getting on your nerves, too, dear?"

"Yes," said Ben, "my nerves are ajangle. Now can we go down and eat?"

"Yes, dear," she said, "but first . . . select all files and delete."

"Countermand!" said Ben at the same moment, but his voice held no privileges to her personal
files, and the whole directory queue blinked three times and vanished. "Aw, Annie, whyтАЩd you do
that?" he said. He went to the cabinet and pulled the trays that held his own chips. She couldnтАЩt
alter them electronically, but she might get it into her head to flush them down the toilet or
something. He also took their common chips, the ones theyтАЩd cast together ever since theyтАЩd
met. She had equal privileges to those.

Anne watched him and said, "IтАЩm hurt that you have so little trust in me."

"How can I trust you after that?"

"After what, darling?"

He looked at her. "Never mind," he said and carried the half-dozen trays to the door.

"Anyway," said Anne, "I already cleaned those."

"What do you mean you already cleaned them?"

"Well, I didnтАЩt delete you. I would never delete you. Or Bobby."

Ben picked one of their common chips at random, "Childbirth of Robert Ellery Malley/02-03-48,"
and slipped it into the player. "Play!" he commanded, and the media room became the
midwifeтАЩs birthing suite. His own sim stood next to the bed in a green smock. It wore a
humorously helpless expression. It held a swaddled bundle, Bobby, who bawled lustily. The birthing
bed was rumpled and stained, but empty. The new mother was missing. "Aw, Annie, you
shouldnтАЩt have."

"I know, Benjamin," she said. "I sincerely hated doing it."

Ben flung their common trays to the floor where the ruined chips scattered in all directions. He
stormed out of the room and down the stairs, pausing to glare at every portrait on the wall. He
wondered if his proxy had found a suitable clinic yet. He wanted Anne out of the house tonight.
Bobby should never see her like this. Then he remembered the chip heтАЩd taken from Bobby and
felt for it in his pocket-the Wedding Album.

***