"Alastair Reynolds - Digital to Analogue" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Alastair)

I felt something damp smother my whole face, then, maybe a
microsecond after the sensation of wetness, the dizzy sensation of
etherisation. The last thing I heard was her saying, very calmly: тАШTrust me,
please. IтАЩm a doctor.тАЩ

****

I remember coming to, briefly, in the back of a vehicle. For a blissed-out
moment I didnтАЩt remember what had happened, one of those waking
fugues where nothing connects, nothing matters. Eyes washed by the
yellow of sodium lamps, behind grilled glass, the numbing vibration of the
ride transmitted through a softness beneath me. I couldnтАЩt make out the
interior too well. Then it all rammed home, as I heard her speaking, behind
what must have been a thin partition separating the back of the van from the
driverтАЩs compartment. I struggled to move, found I couldnтАЩt. For a while it
wasnтАЩt clear whether this was a result of constraints, or whether the right
signals just werenтАЩt getting to my limbs. I was stretchered, braced so that it
didnтАЩt roll around. My mouth was obstructed. Had she gagged me, or was I
sucking on a breathing tube?

тАШEn route from pick-up point,тАЩ she said. тАШSubject has regained
apparent consciousness. Brief description: outward physiology normal on
first inspection; WM, twenties, slim build, height five eight or nine, cropped
hair, no facial distinguishing marks. No evidence for intravenous drug use . .
. presence of other intoxicants, hallucinogens or mood-alterers not ruled
out at this stage. Interestingly, the subjectтАЩs spectacles contained flat
lenses - of cosmetic value alone. The subjectтАЩs auditory stimulant was
neutralised during apprehension. Prognosis is satisfactory; ETA fifteen
minutes, over.тАЩ

The words careered through my brain in a jumble, leaving me to
marshal them. What was happening? Where was I? Why did I really not
care all that much?

I allowed myself to slump, mentally, letting the restful rhythm of the
gliding sodiums caress my eyelids. How easy it was to sleep, despite all
that I knew!

****

The next recollection is an invasive howl ripping through my dreams. It
seemed the loudest noise IтАЩd ever heard, rising and falling on a dreamily
slow wah wah oscillation. Then it got worse, and my skin began to prickle,
before the sound reached an apex and the envelope of oscillation
diminished, lower pitched, gut-churning bass components phasing in.

In the Blitz, my grandfather once told me, the Luftwaffe didnтАЩt bother
tuning the engines of their bombers to pre-cisely the same revs. That way
you could always tell a Heinkel from a Wellington, if you didnтАЩt know how