"Spider Robinson - Too Soon We Grow Old" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robinson Spider)

His face, his posture, his body-language all expressed his puzzlement.
"Perhaps," she said slowly, hearing the words only as they came from her mouth,
"perhaps one's life ambition oughtn't to be something that can be achieved. Because
what do you do then? Perhaps one's life ambition should be something that will
always need to be worked at."
"But surely you're a long way from retirement?"
"Medically, yes," she agreed. "My doctors tell me I can look forward to at least
twenty more years of excellent health. Surely I can contrive to push mountains of
money back and forth for that long. But why? I have already achieved total security.
If I were to seal myself up in my bathroom, my fortune would continue to growтАФit
has passed the critical point for self-sustaining reaction. And all my sisters are now
independent, one way or another.
"I have beenтАж uneasy, for months now, discontent in a way I could not explain to
myself. But I see it now: I've achieved all I set out to do. No wonder I've been soтАж"
She broke off and lapsed into deep thought, utterly unaware of the holocamera.
"But surely," Hold began again, "there are other goals you can turn your attention
to now."
"What goals?" she asked, honestly curious.
"ErтАж well, the classic ones, of course," he said. "That isтАж well, to make the
world a better placeтАж"
"Owen," she said. "I confess that after half a century of living, I haven't the faintest
notion of how to make the world a better place. I wouldn't know where to begin."
"Well, then, to leave something better behind forтАж"
"For posterity?" she finished. "Look at me. I'm fifty-four years old."
Hold was silent.
"In fact, that may be the single craziest thing about this society," she said, her
voice rising, "We're best prepared to bear children, biologically, in our teensтАФand
we're best able to raise them, socially and economically, in our middle and later
years. For the first time in my life, my responsibilities have eased to the point where I
can consider children of my ownтАФand now I'm too old to have them." The camera
unobtrusively tracked her as she rose and paced around the spacious living room.
"I've been a surrogate mother for years, and now I'll never be a real one."
"But, Diana," Hold cut her off, "surely parenthood is not the only form of
immortality available to someone of yourтАж"
"You don't understand," she cried. "I don't want immortality, even by proxy. I
want children. Babies, of my own, to cherish and teach and raise. All my life I've
sublimated my maternal drive, to feed and clothe and house my sisters. Now that's
endedтАФand it was never really enough to begin with. Oh, why didn'tтАж" She flung
out an arm, and the very theatricality of the gesture reminded her all at once that she
was being recorded. She dropped the arm and turned away from the camera in
confusion. "OwenтАж Mr. Hold, I must ask you to leave now. I'm sorry but this
interview was a mistake."
With a total absence of dismay, Hold rose fluidly from the powered armchair and
faced her squarely. Perhaps it was coincidental that this presented his best profile to
the camera. "You know yourself better now, Diana," he said. "That may sting, but I
hardly think it can be a mistake."
"If you're trapped in a canyon, aren't you better off not knowing?" she asked
bitterly.
"Subconsciously you knew all along," he countered.
"At least now you're facing the knowledge. What you know can't be cured, you