"John Varley - The Phantom of Kansas" - читать интересную книгу автора (Varley John)

I was given a mild sedative, help in dressing, and my mother's arm to lead me down plush-carpeted
hallways to the office of the bank president. I was still not fully awake. The halls were achingly quiet but
for the brush of our feet across the wine-colored rug. I felt like the pressure was fluctuating wildly, leaving
my ears popped and muffled. I couldn't see too far away. I was grateful to leave the vanishing points in
the hall for the paneled browns of wood veneer and the coolness and echoes of a white marble floor.

The bank president, Mr. Leander, showed us to our seats. I sank into the purple velvet and let it wrap
around me. Leander pulled up a chair facing us and offered us drinks. I declined. My head was
swimming already and I knew I'd have to pay attention.

Leander fiddled with a dossier on his desk. Mine, I imagined. It had been freshly printed out from the
terminal at his right hand. I'd met him briefly before; he was a pleasant sort of person, chosen for this
public-relations job for his willingness to wear the sort of old-man body that inspires confidence and
trust. He seemed to be about sixty-five. He was probably more like twenty.

It seemed that he was never going to get around to the briefing so I asked a question. One that was very
important to me at the moment.

"What's the date?"

"It's the month of November," he said, ponderously. "And the year is 342."

I had been dead for two and a half years.

"Listen," I said, "I don't want to take up any more of your time. You must have a brochure you can give
me to bring me up to date. If you'll just hand it over, I'll be on my way. Oh, and thank you for your
concern."

He waved his hand at me as I started to rise.

"I would appreciate it if you stayed a bit longer. Yours

The Phantom of Kansas 5

is an unusual case, Ms. Fox. I ... well, it's never happened in the history of the Archimedes Trust
Association."

"Yes?"

"You see, you've died, as you figured out soon after we woke you. What you couldn't have known is that
you've died more than once since your last recording."

"More than once?" So it wasn't such a smart question; so what was I supposed to ask?

"Three times."

"Three?"

"Yes, three separate times. We suspect murder."