"Jack Vance - Marune v1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vance Jack)

were like voices remembered from a dream. Why was he here at Gaswin? To earn
money. How long must he remain? He had forgotten, or perhaps the words had
not registered. Pardero began to feel a suffocating agitation, a
claustrophobia of the intellect. He lay down on the moor, beat his forehead,
cried out in frustration.

Time passed. Pardero rose to his knees, gained his feet and slowly returned
to the camp.


A week later Pardero learned of the camp doctor and his function. The next
morning, during sick call, he presented himself to the dispensary. A dozen
men sat on the benches while the doctor, a young man fresh from medical
school, summoned them forward, one at a time. The complaints, real,
imaginary, or contrived, were usually related to the work: backache,
allergic reaction, congestion of the lungs, an infected lychbug sting. The
doctor, young in years but already old in guile, sorted out the real from
the fictitious, prescribing remedies for the first and irritant salves or
vile-flavored medicines for the second.

Pardero was signaled to the desk and the doctor looked him up and down.
"What's wrong with you?"

"I can't remember anything."

"Indeed." The doctor leaned back in his chair. "What is your name?"

"I don't know. Here at the camp they call me Pardero. Can you help me?"

"Probably not. Go back to the bench and let me finish up the sick call;
it'll be just a few minutes."

The doctor dealt with his remaining patients and returned to Pardero. "Tell
me haw far back you remember."

"I arrived at Carfaunge. I remember a spaceship. I remember the depot - but
nothing before."

"Nothing whatever?"

"Nothing."

"Do you remember things you like, or dislike? Are you afraid of anything?"

"No."

"Amnesia typically derives from a subconscious intent to block out
intolerable memories."

Pardero gave his head a dubious shake. "I don't think this is likely."