"Larry Niven & Steve Barnes - Dreampark" - читать интересную книгу автора (Niven Larry)

different from the other two due to the 'storage key' phenomenon."
"Storage key?" Alex saw Skip marshalling a response, and realized his mistake. Too late; Skip was
off and running.
"Do you know about Sperling's eight-second law? You always remember an eclipse lasting eight
seconds. It's because eclipse watchers spend the whole time watching one thing. If you want your
memory to store more than that you have to keep looking around. What we're doing with the Gravity
Whip experience-"

Gavagan's was a quiet restaurant. Its walls were sponges for sound. It was decorated like a
twentieth-century British pub, right down to the dart board on the wall and the lukewarm beer at
the bar. The jukebox in the corner didn't play music, but a dollar coin bought fifteen minutes of
fancy storytelling from holograms of Mark Twain, Rudyard Kipling, Jorkins, Brigadier Fallowes. .
Alex Griffin spent a lot of time here.
Skip had finally wound down, and sat back in his chair listening to a ghostly Harry Purvis tell of
finding a nugget of U-235 in his mailbox.
Gary Tegner, the ever-cheerful manager of Gavagan's, floated their food to them personally. "Fish
and chips?" Alex and Melinda both raised fingers. Skip had a Clarkeburger and fries. "Good to see
you folks. Melinda, isn't it?" He set out tankards of ale for the two men and a soft drink for
Melinda.
She nodded. "It's been a while. Christmas of '49? Staff party?" Tegner gave his deep-bellied
chuckle. He had considerable belly to bounce it around in. "How could I ever forget that party?"
He nudged Skip. "You nuts in R&D. When eight tiny Santas pulled that sleigh through my window, I
thought I'd bust a gut."
Alex remembered. "Me too. And the reindeer with the whip?"
Tegner retreated from the table, wiping his eyes as he chortled. Skip wolfed down a third of his
hamburger, then, "What's happening with you, Alex?"
"Same old thing, buddy." Then he remembered. "No, I take that back. We had some vandalism over in
CMC."
"I heard about that. Rice, wasn't it? Anything taken?"
"Apparently not. It shook him up, though."
"That fits his profile. He's the nervous type."
"Hey, don't tell me that, buddy. You should have said something before you recommended him to me!"
"Alex, a hired guard should be the nervous type. Anyway, I'm a sucker for puppies and lost
children."
Alex caught Melinda's wistful glance. "Hey, genius, when are you going to have some kids of your
own? Then you can test-" Skip's lips thinned out, and so did Melinda's, and Alex knew he was on
thin ice. "-on the other hand, I was wondering if you brought the L-5 plans. Ahem."
Skip jabbed lightly at Griffin's hand with a fork. "It's not too bad. Old territory. I don't feel
my professional life has room for kiddies yet."
Melinda seemed to draw into herself, and her voice was tiny. "-And I want them." She nibbled at
her fish. "I really do understand Skip's point, but I was raised thinking a woman should have
children."
"Were your parents very religious, then?"
"Who wasn't, after the Quake?" Her answer was simple, and true. The Mormons, the Vincent de Paul
Society, and Hadassah had been among the first to bring massive aid into California. The religious
environment had filtered all through California society and California politics. For several


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