"Reed, Robert - FirstTuesday" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reed Robert)

school, and besides, I figured this was my chance to show you my mind. If you
know what I mean. . . . "

President Perez nodded, dreadlocks bouncing. "Feedback is the idea. As I was
just telling Stefan --"

"I'm an old-fashioned white man, Mr. President."

The boy looked at the drab house, willing Morn to appear.

But she didn't, and Yancy flung open the grill and let the biogas run too long
before he made a spark, a soft blue explosion causing Stefan to back away.
Nobody spoke. Every eye, seeing or blind, watched the patties hit the warming
rack, sizzling quietly but with anger, Yancy mashing them flat with the grimy
spatula that he'd gotten for Christmas last year.

Then the President spoke, ignoring that last comment.

"It's a shame this technology won't let me help you," he declared, with a ring
of honesty.

Yancy grimaced.

The patties grew louder, the flames turning yellow.

Obstinately ignoring the tensions, the President looked at his own hands. "A
poverty of physicality," he declared, laughing to himself.

That was it. Something snapped, and Yancy barked, "Know what I like, Mr.
President? About tonight, I mean."

"What do you like?"

"Thinking that the real you is buried in goo, a big fat glass rope stuck up your
ass."

Stefan prayed for a systems failure, or better, a war. Anything that would stop
events here. His fear of fears was that the President would awaken to learn that
Yancy Thatcher of Fort Wayne, Indiana had insulted him. Because the boy couldn't
imagine anyone else in the country having the stupid courage to say such an
awful thing.

Yet their guest wasn't visibly angry. He actually laughed, quietly and calmly.
And all he said was, "Thank you for your honesty, sir."

Yancy flipped burgers, then looked at Stefan. "Tell your more it'll be a few
minutes. And take him with you."

It was such a strange, wondrous moment.