"Spider Robinson - User Friendly" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robinson Spider)

"I know, I know, they told me. Who said fear has to be logical?"
Greg sat back and sighed deeply, a mournful sound. There was a silence, then, which lasted for ten
seconds or more. The worst was said, and there was nothing else to say.
Finally Sam tried to distract himself with mundane trivia. "Listen, I saw the `No Parking' sign where I
parked, I just didn't give a damn. If I give you my keys, will you move it for me? I don't think I can."
"Can't do it," Greg said absently. "I don't dare. They could fine me four hundred bucks if I get caught
behind the wheel of an American-registered car, you know that."
The subject had come up on Sam's last visit, back in 1982. Marian had been with him, then. "Sorry. I
forgot."
"Sam, what made you decide to come here?"
He discovered that he did not know. He tried to analyze it. "Well, part of it is that I needed to tell
somebody the whole thing, and you and Alice are the only people on earth that love me enough. But
there wasn't even that much logic to it. I was just terrified, and I needed to get to someplace safe, and
Canada was the nearest place."
Greg burst out laughing.
Sam stared at him, scandalized. "What's so funny?"
It took Greg quite a while to stop laughing, but when he didтАФdespite the smile that remained on his
faceтАФSam could see that he was very angry.
тАЬAmericans, no kidding. You're amazing. I should be used to it by now, I guess."
"What are you talking about?"
"About you, you smug, arrogant bastard. There are nasty old aliens in the States, taking people over
and using them to walk around and talk with, for mysterious purposes of their ownтАФso what do you do?
Take off for Canada, where it'll be safe. You just assume, totally unconsciously, that the aliens will think
like you. That they'd never bother with a quaint, backward, jerkwater country like Canada, The Retarded
Giant On Your Doorstep! Don't you read the papers?"
"I don'tтАФ"
"Excuse me. Stupid of me: it probably wouldn't make the Stateside papers, would it? You simple
jackass, there are three times more Canadians hagridden than Americans! Even though you've got ten
times the population. They came here first."
"First? No, that can't be, I'd have heardтАФ"
"Why? We barely heard about it ourselves, with two out of the sixteen channels Canadian originated. It
ain't news unless and until it happens in the friggin' United Snakes of America!" He had more to say, but
suddenly he tilted his head as if he heard something. "Hell. Stay there." He got up and left the room
hastily, muttering to himself.
Sam sat there, stunned by his old friend's inexplicable anger. He finished his cigarette and lit another

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while he tried to understand it. He heard a murmur of voices elsewhere in the house, and recognized the
one that wasn't Greg's. Alice was home from work. Perhaps she would be more sympathetic. He got up
and followed the sound of the voices, and it wasn't until he actually saw her that he remembered. Alice
hadn't worked night shift in over a yearтАФand she had a home terminal now anyway ...
She was in pretty fair shape. Face drawn with fatigue, of course, and her hair in rats. She was fully
dressed except for pants and panties; there was an oil or grease stain on the side of her blouse. She tried
to smile when she saw Sam.
"He caught me sitting on the john," she said. "Hi, Sam." She burst into tears, still trying to smile.
He thought for a crazy second that she meant her husband. But no, of course, the "he" she referred to
was not Greg, but herтАФher rider. Her User ...
"Oh, my dear God," he said softly, still not quite believing. He had been so sure, so unthinkingly