"Maureen McHugh - Virtual Love" - читать интересную книгу автора (McHugh Maureen F)

IтАЩve never gotten anything but junk mail before. Nobody knows my system
address. ItтАЩs him, heтАЩs a magician. I look all over the green room, ignoring the
message flag in the mirror, until I find it, tiny glittering scarab, blue-black beetle,
hiding near the door. He must have attached it to me when he took my hand.

Now what? I look at the bug and try to decide what to do. Ignore the
message? Accept it and never read it? HeтАЩll understand silence, wonтАЩt he? (But he
knows my address. What do I do, pay Ma Bell and change my access line? IтАЩll have
to, and that costs money.)

So I accept the message and play it. A screen rolls down in the dressing
room, flat, like a window, like the vid. It is pearl gray for a moment, transition time,
waiting to be born.

The little man in the wheelchair is all head, head with a sharp, pointed chin and
thinning hair and quick eyes. HeтАЩs not really all head, he has a body, and short stick
legs, short muscular arms. Like something out of a Velasquez painting. a dwarf.

тАЬHi,тАЭ he says.

ItтАЩs a recording so I donтАЩt have to say anything back.

He twists a bit in his chair. I am very still. I am very good at still.

тАЬIтАЩm gambling,тАЭ he says. тАЬI have this terrible feeling that IтАЩm wrong. But there
was this theory about Toulouse-Lautrec, that one of the reasons he could paint his
characters so unsparingly was that he wasnтАЩt one of them. The other people out on
the board, they are all projecting something. But IтАЩm not. IтАЩm not projecting myself
at all.тАЭ

He pauses and wipes one hand over his mouth, his shoulder rolls. I wonder
what screwed him up so badly that they couldnтАЩt fix his genes? Was he like me? Did
the virus that was supposed to fix his genetic material screw up, only make things
worse? There arenтАЩt very many of us.

тАЬI donтАЩt know what makes you different,тАЭ he says. тАЬMaybe youтАЩre just some
kind of genius at virtual reality. But I need to talk to you.тАЭ Plaintively, тАЬThereтАЩs
nobody else out there who would understand, but you do.

тАЬI think this is a mistake,тАЭ says the recording. тАЬIтАЩm not even sure IтАЩm going to
send it. But if I do, and if you want to get in touch with me, leave a message on the
moon for Sam. Hell, I donтАЩt even know your name. Alicia.тАЭ

And it ends without a good-bye.

Stork. She is the only person I could wear to the moon. Someone strong and
a little brash. She fits when she strides into the Tech Bar, with its windows looking
out on the lunar landscape, all stark and blasted. Stork could be a rigger on a lunar
station.